


Past and Present

by pedesinterra2234



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anatole and Helene are nasty, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Fighting, Fluff, Fraternities & Sororities, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Just assholes, Marya D Is A Good Bro, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Pining, No Incest, Pining, Slow Build, We'll get there, as they should be, they aren't good people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-07-15 09:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pedesinterra2234/pseuds/pedesinterra2234
Summary: Hey! So this is my first time ever posting a fic somewhere, but I adore war and peace in all its forms, and the lack of stuff in these tags makes me annoyed. I've seen a lot of headcanons and things on tumblr for a college AU, and I love that idea because 1. I don't wanna write like it's the 1800s and 2. I'm in college rn so I get it! Anyways please leave comments about ideas or headcanons of your own, because 9 times out of 10 the reason I never post is cause I get stuck lol!In terms of who I envision as these characters, I lean more towards a mix the 2016 BBC miniseries and the book with the exception of Anatole who will always be Lucas Steele to me. However, if you wanna picture a young Josh Groban and Denee Benton, or maybe throw it back and do Audrey Hepburn and Henry Fonda, go for it! Project whatever you want onto these characters, after all, they're not real! Just have fun, that's all I want!





	1. Prologue

It should be noted that not all of Helene's intentions for getting Pierre Bezukov to date her were bad. She acknowledged that their partnership would also benefit him. After all, dating the Vice-President of Kappa Alpha Theta has its perks, even her boyfriend didn't ever intend to use them. They got invited to all the best parties, and the most prestigious social events, yet all Pierre wanted to do was sit in the History Department, or the library, or his apartment, or Andrei Bolkonsky's apartment, or basically anywhere Helene would rather die than go. And Helene Vissilyevna Kuragina was not ashamed at all to say that this would've bugged her if she actually _liked_ her boyfriend. Well, not like, but maybe cared about. She did _like_ Pierre, he worshipped her, giving her everything and asking for nothing, and his personality could be cute whenever he wasn't trying to impress her. He was a perfect intellectual, but just so annoying. Plus, Helene found his roundish figure and curly mess of brown hair unattractive, his constant philosophical tangents to be dull, and the sex they had was horribly mediocre.

To be fair, they only had sex once at Pierre's constant begging, and Helene enjoyed sex enough to get it over with so she shouldn't have expected much with him being a virgin. Still, once it was over, she went to her brother, Anatole's, apartment where his roommate, Dolokhov, was ready to take her in his bed. Did she feel bad about cheating on Pierre? Absolutely not. In her mind, Pierre knew precisely what this was, and that was why he regularly drank in her presence. Helene loved when Pierre drank because he would tell Anatole to take him on some idiotic excursion about their campus, and Helene would hook up with Dolohov or do blow with her sisters or both. Other than that she kept her distance and tried to avoid her boyfriend as much as possible, basking in the excellent reputation that he gave her. Besides, he was often at Andrei's or Nikolay Rostov's, and they both hated her.

This attitude changed drastically when Natasha Rostova walked onto campus with her mousy red-headed "bestie" Sonya in tow. Apparently, from what Pierre told her, she was Nikolay's little sister and therefore had been very close friends with Pierre for a very very very long time. Lovely. Helene couldn't deny that she was pretty; she was youthful, radiant, kind, and she never exuded sexiness or lust. Helene hated her instantly, even before Pierre started to hang around Nikolay's more than he used to. Of course, she wasn't jealous or worried; she knew Pierre was too kind-hearted to be stupid. Then, as school started more attention was drawn to the beautiful Natalia and away from her. Helene was passive for a good three months, even letting her pledge and be welcomed into Kappa Alpha Theta. Then, one day, Anatole saw her at the campus's art gallery where, of course, Ms. "I'm-the-next-Picasso-and-bake-cookies-for-orphans-in-my-spare-time" had some pieces up. He fell in love with her, and quickly raced back to ask Helene for her help,  
"Sorry sweetheart, she's taken," Helene said, running her hand through her brother's blonde hair, "now make me another drink, Pierre's coming tonight.

"Really? Who's fucking him?" Anatole joked.

"Certainly not this one," Dolokov added. Helene rolled her eyes as Dolokhov dragged her onto his lap.

"C'moooon, little sister, let me screw her."

"Ask Andrei Bolkonsky then," she smirked.

"Fuck!" Anatole yelled, "Bolkonsky, are you kidding me? He's in the army!"

"I'm in the army?" Dolokhov added questioningly.

"Yes but you _like_ me, Fedya, Bolkonsky despises me because all the dumb shit I get Bezukov to do."

"From what I hear they're pretty serious. Our dear Pierre introduced him at Marya Dimitrievna's autumn party, and that was at least three months ago," Said Helene, innocently starting to grind into Dolokhov's lap. The man cleared his throat and pushed her off,

"He'll be gone by the end of this month, Anatole, he got called back for duty."

"How do you know?" asked Anatole, now turning his attention back to the couple.

"Recruiters came by the job fair last week, ended up taking all the vets out for shots afterward, and Bolkonsky spilled. Said he didn't tell Natasha but he was leaving again first of December, and we wouldn't be seeing his sorry ass for two years."

"Well that's fucking wonderful," said Anatole with a wicked smile on his face. Helene matched it,

"How about I throw a party next Friday to get you and her more acquainted?" she asked.

"How do we get rid of Bolkonsky?"

"Leave that to my bumbling boyfriend _mon_ _cher_ ," Helene replied. And just as that vindictive smile began to fade off of the Kuragins, Pierre Bezukov knocked on the door.

Pierre had no way of knowing what he had gotten himself into that disastrous year by knocking on Anatole Kuragin's door; his other fist grasped tight around a bottle of Tito's. It started out innocently enough, because how could he have known what his conniving girlfriend was planning. She sat him down and ran her fingers through his hair-something she never did, but Pierre was blushing too hard at the attention to care-and talked about how sad he must be that Andrei was leaving,

"And for a whole two years, oh baby you must take him out, have a boys night just the two of you!" she suggested.

"Uh, Y-yeah, yeah, that seems right. I just- I can't believe he's going. To think of him being at war, in the thick of it! It all just seems so heroic," Pierre replied. Helene hummed and smiled,

"Indeed. How about next Friday, hm? I have to do boring old paperwork for Kap Alpha, plus Anatole and Dolokhov will be off being degenerates-"

"Hey! Watch it!" the two other boys chimed in.

"And I don't want you involved in their debauchery." Helene finished. Pierre smiled and tried to pull her into a kiss, but she put her hand on his chest and stopped him,

"Sounds good?"

"Of course, Helene."

"Wonderful!" she said jumping up from the couch and grabbing the vodka from his other hand.

* * *

 

The next weekend Andrei Bolkonsky and Pierre Bezukov went out for drinks. Meanwhile, Helene had made sure to pay extra attention to the beautiful Rostova, always making sure to throw in little things about how much Anatole was in love with her since he saw her,

"He couldn't even eat, 'She's all I can focus on,' he said to me," she would say as she dressed up her new play-thing in her old designer clothes. Helene saw Natasha blush and smile at the idea. She then let Natasha know how unfair it was that Andrei was leaving her, "in her moment of need."

"Oh, I know, I don't know what I'll do without him-"

"You need a strong man! You may love him darling, but you're still so new to college life! Anatole still has another year, my charming brother, I don't know if I mentioned, but he'll be at our party tonight."

"Really...Oh, no I have-"

"Bolkonsky, yes. I know. It just makes me upset to see my favorite new sister in such distress over a man like Andrei. Leaving you all alone to go and get himself blown up in the desert! And without even telling you until the week before," she moved Natasha's hair from her neck and draped a necklace on her skin as she leaned into the younger girl's ear, "It makes me happy to know I have men like Anatole in my life, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Come, I'll get you better-acquainted downstairs." and Natasha took Helene's hand and walked right into the arms of Anatole Kuragin. 

That night Natasha didn't leave Anatole's side. He made her laugh and blush and feel as though there was no one on earth but her. He kept his hand on the small of her back and continuously whispered how beautiful she was in her ear. He made her face flush and warm, and even though she knew it was wrong, she felt more daring and adventurous than she had ever felt with Andrei. She hadn't known this feeling before, and she didn't want it to stop. And then he said those magic words,

"I would never leave a thing like you." Her fate was sealed. They spent a passionate night together, Natasha's first ever passionate night, and the next morning Anatole left kissing her goodbye. That evening he slept with another girl before seeing Natasha again. Come Sunday morning, unaware of Anatole's true intentions, Natasha went to Alexandria Hall to see Sonya before breaking it off with Andrei. 

"Natasha you're joking!" Sonya said with wide-eyes. Natasha's ever-present smile dropped,

"Of course I'm not joking! He says he loves me, Sonya! Andrei has never said that-"

"Talia you've known him three days!"

"And I've felt such a strong connection!"

"He's a player Natasha! He's the one that gets Pierre into all sorts of trouble! He has a different woman every night, sometimes multiple, plus I hear he shares Dolokhov with his sister!'

"Don't be gross Sonya! Besides," she paused, "He couldn't have had another girl this weekend. He was with me every night." Sonya gasped and grabbed her best friends hand,

"Natalia you didn't! God, don't you see this is exactly what he wanted? What about Andrei?" Natasha had tears in her eyes,

"Never mind Andrei! If he loved me, he wouldn't be leaving me, and Anatole won't leave! You're just jealous cause you know Nikolay will never love you!" she screamed.

"Fine," Sonya screamed back, "Go ruin your life! See if I care!" 

Pierre was studying in his room when he got the text from Natasha:

> >Natalia Rostova: Pierre I need u  
>    
>  <Pierre: Are you okay?
> 
> <Pierre: Where are you I'm omw
> 
> >Natalia Rostova: Whats the deal with Anatole Kuragin
> 
> >Natalia Rostova: Like whos he seeing
> 
> <Pierre: Knowing Anatole probably five women at once. Guys a piece of shit Nat.
> 
> <Pierre: What's going on?
> 
> <Pierre: Did he harass you?
> 
> <Pierre: Tasha?

He paced around his apartment and called his girlfriend, who swore she knew nothing, but Pierre could hear the lies in her throat and hung up on her. Andrei called him next. He said he and Natasha broke up, he would see him before he left, he didn't want to talk about it, and then he hung up. Finally, Marya Dimitrievna called him. She said Sonya was crying because of Natasha, who had told her all about her time with Anatole; and now Natasha was crying in her room also because Anatole lied and she has nowhere to go because she lives in the sorority house and refuses to talk to Helene.

"I'll kill him, Petrushka, I swear to God, if I ever see that stupid childish swine-"

"Is Natasha with you?"

"No, all her stuff is at that fucking Kappa house, and Anatole is downstairs trying to talk her!"

"What?"

"He's talking to Helene about it while Natasha's upstairs!"

"What? Wait, did Helene know about this?" he said louder.

"Oh please, Pierre she practically locked them in a room together!" Pierre hung up the phone and went to the Kappa house. Sure enough, when he walked into the grand foyer and looked to his left into a living room, there sat Anatole on a plush sofa drinking a glass of wine while his sister talked nonsense to him. When they noticed him, Helene quickly went to stop him, but he pushed her aside,

"I will deal with you later." He marched to Anatole and dragged him up by his shirt and tossed him out the door, ignoring the stares of the ladies around him and Helene's calls.

" _What_ ," Pierre paused, rage in his eyes, "Did you tell Natasha Rostova?"

"Pierre-"

"WHAT!" Pierre yelled, "Did you tell her? Did you tell her you loved her?"

"Yes."

"Did you manipulate an innocent girl into sleeping with you and convince her to leave her boyfriend, with no plans of commitment to her?"

"I slept with her twice; I'd call that commitment." Anatole joked. Pierre's brown eyes darkened. He stormed over to Anatole, picked him up by his shirt, slammed against the white wall and punched him senseless, leaving him bloody on the ground.

"If you ever come near her again, I will _kill_ you, do you understand?!" he yelled, and he walked back into the house. The first thing Helene noticed was Pierre's bloody knuckles as he walked up to her. 

"Pier-"

"Don't. Do not speak to me. You turned me into a drunk, used my money and my connections to better yourself. You sleep with other men openly. You have ruined my life, and I have been fine with that because I know it's all I deserve. But for you to take in a young girl, my friend, one of my _closest_ friends; and fill her head with nonsense about your whore of a brother, to _deceive_ her and _manipulate_ her when she has done nothing but talk about how much she admires you. How happy she was that I'm dating you because you treated her so nicely," Pierre paused and looked at the frightened girl before him, "At this moment, you are more repulsive to me than ever. We're over. Where is Natasha?"

Helene pointed upstairs, murmured some room number with tears in her eyes, and went to help Anatole. 

Natasha would forever be grateful to Pierre for that night, taking her things and moving her into Marya Dimitrievna's. He and Nikolay went back the following week to keep getting her stuff. The Rostov's dad was a dean, and after some subtle hinting at what happened, Natasha was moved into Alexandria Hall with Sonya who had joyously made up with her best friend.

* * *

 

Andrei never returned her calls or answered her Skypes. Pierre never got to see him that next day, Andrei ended up leaving too early. Mary Bolkonskya started to become better friends with everyone in the group and was a tremendous comfort to Natasha. She told her not to worry and that Andrei should have given her a chance to explain herself and just to give him time. 

Pierre became Natasha's closest comfort though. He saw her almost every day and made sure she was alright. By the time Spring Break had rolled around the young man was sure of two things: 1. With Andrei gone, Natasha was his best friend, and 2. He was madly in love with her. They spent their Spring Break together along with their friends and family on Nikolay and Natasha's family yacht off the coast of France. Everyone was tanning and laughing, drinking mixed drinks and dancing to loud music. At night they would head back to the large mansion and Sonya would kiss Nikolay on the cheek before she went to sleep and he would blush and look a bit guilty, gazing then at Mary who was on the couch reading, already in her pajamas. 

One night Natasha got too tipsy at the country club's bar, and so Pierre drove her home early, putting her to bed but not before Natasha reached up and kissed him on the cheek, laughing and adding,

"Look, we're Sofia and Nikky!" before passing out. Pierre was lucky it was dark, as his face was a deep shade of scarlet. The next day they all went back out on the boat and had another fantastic day of swimming and tanning and laughing together. Pierre gazed over at Natasha, who was rubbing more sunscreen on her face and declared to himself that he would never be this happy again. 

When they reached land, Mary got the call. Her father was distraught, and Mary started to weep. Nikolay rushed from Sonya's side to her and asked her what was wrong, but something in Pierre already knew: Andrei had been killed in action. 

They were back home within days. They all stayed at the Bolkonsky residence, but Mary soon insisted that they needed time to plan, and the friends should just go home. Nikolay hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek saying,

"Call me if you need anything, please."

Natasha cried the whole way back to the airport, and when Pierre went to book a flight back to his hometown Natasha wept harder,

"Pierre please I can't lose you too!"

"Come home with us, please, she'll need you," added Sonya in his ear. Pierre nodded,

"Okay, Tasha, whatever you want. You'll never lose me."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this is my first time ever posting a fic somewhere, but I adore war and peace in all its forms, and the lack of stuff in these tags makes me annoyed. I've seen a lot of headcanons and things on tumblr for a college AU, and I love that idea because 1. I don't wanna write like it's the 1800s and 2. I'm in college rn so I get it! Anyways please leave comments about ideas or headcanons of your own, because 9 times out of 10 the reason I never post is cause I get stuck lol! 
> 
> In terms of who I envision as these characters, I lean more towards a mix the 2016 BBC miniseries and the book with the exception of Anatole who will always be Lucas Steele to me. However, if you wanna picture a young Josh Groban and Denee Benton, or maybe throw it back and do Audrey Hepburn and Henry Fonda, go for it! Project whatever you want onto these characters, after all, they're not real! Just have fun, that's all I want!


	2. A New Beginning

As Natalya Rostova pulled up to school with her brother and three best friends, she only had one thought: "Thank God." Nikolay and Sonya had been fighting the whole way about something Nikolay said to someone about Sonya being his friend and of course Nikolay didn't see the issue because "we  _are_ friends, Sonya, what the hell?!?" The five young people climbed out of the Escalade as Nikolay and Sonya continued to argue. Mary, Natasha, and Pierre left them alone as they got the last of their things out of the trunk and figured out what was going where. Natasha was now a Sophomore and got to stay in the new Petersburg Hall, which had been built over the summer. Mary, a junior, was moving in off-campus with some girls from her higher level English Lit classes, and Pierre, now a senior, moved to a new apartment closer to campus (but specifically closer to Natasha).

"Sonya will you cut it out! Half of this stuff is yours anyways!" Natasha called over to her roommate. Sonya sighed heavily, and she came over and grabbed the other two suitcases. Nikolay shut the trunk with his things still inside and jogged over to his group of friends. He looked at his sister and smiled,

"All set?" 

"You know it," Natasha said cheerfully jingling her keys.

"Room 551, here we come!" Sonya added. The rest of the friends laughed and hugged the two girls as they hurried up the stairs into their dormitory.

"Pierre, you only have one bag," Mary said pointing at his backpack. 

"Oh-uh-yeah, um, my place got set up last week. Some friends of my dad-I guess-I hired their company to set it up so it would be ready."

"Damn dude, you should've set me up!" 

"Nik, I'm sorry! I-If you want-"

"Pierre. Dude, I'm kidding, I like setting up my stuff! You want a ride?" he asked. Pierre shook his head,

"No thanks, man. It's just that building right there," said Pierre, pointing to the coral building down the street.

"Okay, Petrushka, you could walk Nat to class!" Nikolay suggested. Pierre's face grew hot, and he blushed. 

"I will take that ride, Nik, I don't think I can carry all this around the block," Mary interjected, throwing a wink at Pierre. Nikolay smiled and picked up some of her things,

"Well then," he paused, "Your chariot awaits m'lady," he teased. Pierre and Mary laughed as they loaded her thing in the back seat and the two of them drove away back down the road.

Pierre began to walk to the street, embracing the gorgeous day before him. It was that fresh kind of August day where the wind was just right, and hints of brown and red began to appear in the trees. Even though it made only been a moment, he ached to be back with his friends again. He hadn't been with them for six weeks before coming back together to get ready for school. He left the Rostov house and went for an internship opportunity in Austria. He needed a break from himself to clear his head. He had grown so close to her during their time together. He was so in love with her; he almost couldn't keep it to himself. It was what was best for her. She had believed a liar had loved her and lost the man closest to her in only four months. How could he burden her with his love? So he left and went to become a student adjunct in Austria for a philosophy professor at the University of Graz. It was the kind of job he dreamed of doing. And to his credit, Pierre enjoyed every minute of his brief time away. Then one day on his time off, he wandered into the Kunsthaus Graz, and his thoughts flooded to Natasha. Surrounded by beautiful modern-art, he only wished that she was there with him.

Thinking of it now, Pierre could almost see them back there together: her bright, warm eyes gazing excitedly over every exhibit as her brown curls bounced with each step. He smiled and blushed as he scanned his key, opened the door, and entered the elevator. When he got to his apartment, he set his bag down on the brown leather couch and inhaled the smell of furniture. He walked into his room and saw his clothes, freshly pressed and hanging in his closet. He walked through the door connecting to his study and smiled when he looked down at the solid oak desk with gold knobs. He scratched at his scruff as he quickly went back to his backpack, took out his laptop, and set it up in his office to his liking. It took less than five minutes for Pierre to have delved into the world of philosophical thought and theory. He opened more tabs and ordered more books on the people he had studied and then for the classes he was taking. He opened his e-mail and responded to the e-mails from Professor Pichler, whom he had worked for at Ganz.

 

> >Pichler: Pierre, my boy, _wie geht es dir,_ I hope you find your journey home successful, and may you have a wonderful school year! I wanted to thank you again for all your help this past summer, and if you ever need any assistance feel free to reach out.
> 
> <Pierre: Dear Professor, thank you so much again for the opportunity. I had never felt so content and at home in a position than when I was working under you. I came to you a very confused boy, and I hope that I have grown in not only my love for " _philosophie,"_ as it were but also as a person. Thank you for your offer of assistance, I will be sure to do so.

Pierre sighed as he sent the e-mail when he heard his phone buzzed. Once he picked it up his heart fluttered, it was a picture of Natasha and Sonya making frowny-faces in their new dorm captioned, "We miss you already!!! :( ...also we can't hang our lights, plz send help." He laughed at their faces and replied,

"Be there soon."

* * *

Natasha opened the door and wrapped her arms around Pierre's neck,

"Oh, Petrushka, thank God. Sonya was about to break her ankle!" 

"I was not!" Sonya called. He looked over Natalya's shoulder he saw the smaller red-head wrapped up in lights. Pierre chuckled,

"Sonya, you're positively radiant," he joked as he entered their dorm room. 

"Oh ha-ha-ha, very funny Pytor Kirillovitch," said Sonya as she untangled herself from the lights. Pierre and Natasha helped her out, and she sighed and readjusted her shirt once free. Pierre took the lights in his large hands and looked at their room. He saw tiny clear hooks placed randomly around the room, some crooked, as though they were smacked against the wall haphazardly.

"So, you, uh, went ahead and hung those command strips I see," Pierre said scratching the scruff around his jaw. Natasha smiled guiltily,

"Yeah...we kinda used our beds and chairs like trampolines, but then we both almost fell, so we thought we'd call you."

"Well, I'm flattered you thought of me," Pierre said looking at her.

"You're 6'3 and have hands the size of a baseball mitt, Bezukhov, if you can't hang these lights, no one can," Sonya said patting him on the back. The mid-back anyways, Pierre was seriously tall. He began to string the lights through the hooks, making sure to adjust any crooked or loose ones as he went. Pierre was not a confident man, but he did enjoy the fact that he was tall. Sure he was stout and scruffy and annoyingly dull, but at least he was helpful. And smart, Pierre knew he was smart.

Natasha and Sonya began to set up the rest of their room, making sure to move chairs whenever Pierre needed to step there. Natasha couldn't help but watch him. Everything he did, he did almost rhythmically and with such gentle precision. She was so happy to have her friend back in her life. She couldn't stand it when he was gone, and he wouldn't even talk to her the first two weeks he was there. Natasha thought about that time and about how much she truly needed Pierre. She thought about what life with Helene Kuragina would have been like, and in Natasha's eyes, Pierre probably enjoyed being needed. But then he left, and she realized that maybe Pierre felt as though she was using him, which scared her because she couldn't lose him.

It was only when he went to Austria that she realized she didn't need Pierre in her life, but she wanted Pierre in her life. 

"Natalya!" Sonya said waving her bunny slippers in front of her face, "You zoned out, love, you all good?" Pierre turned around and looked at her, breaking his concentration. Natasha grew flush,

"Yeah, yeah! Just starting to doze, that car ride was brutal, I think I need an energy bar or some coffee," she said going for her purse on the bedside table. 

"Can I come with you?" Pierre asked.

"Of course! Sonya?"

"You both go ahead, I want to finish my closet." Sonya smiled. 

Pierre and Natasha headed out and down the stairs of the building and onto the street. They hadn't been alone since before Pierre was in Austria, and though they were both dying to talk to one another, neither had the nerve.

"So how was-" they both said in unison. They looked at each other and chuckled,

"Please, you go," said Pierre. 

"How was Austria?" she asked. His face lit up,

"Oh, Tasha, it was magnificent! The cities are cleaner, the skies seem brighter, and the classes-Oh Natasha the _classes_! The _school_! I have never felt more close to home than when I am in your-" Pierre paused, "Your _family's_ company." Natasha smiled brightly at him as they entered the cafe. 

"That's wonderful! Let's order and then tell me more about it!" And so they did. He told her all about the classes, his Professor, and the kids and the extraordinary questions they would ask. He told her about his weekend trips to Vienna and about all the historical things he would see just walking down the streets. Finally, he did mention the art, which made Natalie smile harder,

"Was it amazing?" she added.

"Extra amazing," he replied.

"Petrushka we must go!" she said smiling, "You, me, Nik, Sonya, maybe even Mary! Oh, it would be so great!"

"I love that idea already!" he replied, "But what about you. Forget me and my constant studying, what did you do while I was away?" Natasha smile got dimmer as she pushed a strand of her long hair behind her ear,

"I had fun. It took me a bit to adjust with you not being there, but actually, it helped. Sonya and I took a driver all across the city, and we bought new clothes. We took Mary to the beach, and Nikolay tried teaching me to surf! You should have seen me up there, Pierre, I looked so silly," she paused, "I also went to see a counselor."

"Oh? How was that?"

"Good. I needed it," she said.

"I'm sorry I left you- If I- If I would've known you weren't okay-"

"No, Pierre please, don't be silly! You deserve happiness as much as the rest of us Pierre; I'm so happy you found it in Austria! Besides, I adore you, and I couldn't have you beginning to think I only hang out with you because you're good at consoling me. And most importantly, there are things that I surprisingly felt more comfortable talking to a stranger about than anyone else. It was a good thing, a great thing," she said taking his hand. 

"As long as you say so," he said giving her a fake stern look.

"I know so! Let's get back to Sonya, she probably color-coding my wardrobe as we speak!" she said as they exited the shop. 

"No wonder her in Nikolay get along so well."

"Please! Nikki's idea of setting up his space is putting down all his boxes and unpacking when necessary! And they don't get along at all."

"Really?"

"I know it breaks Sonya's heart. She always swore they were going to be together, but they're so stubborn. If I didn't know any better, I would think Sonya was his sister and not me!" Pierre laughed at that. Whether Natasha admitted it or not, Pierre knew she was as stubborn as they come. You couldn't move her off a melting ice cap if she refused. 

"Nikolay is a child anyways, don't get me wrong, he's a great friend-and I'm sure a great brother-but he is. And he has the right to be, you know? The world is his for the taking," Pierre said looking down at her. She looked up at him and winced with the sun in her eyes,

"Yeah, Sonya deserves better. Besides, he likes Mary Bolkonskya, even if he doesn't know it yet!" Natalia said matter-of-factly. Pierre laughed as he brought her to the front doors of her building,

"Oh really?"

"Oh yeah! I'm good at that sort of thing. I can see love instantly!"

"You're a regular Aphrodite then?" Pierre suggested. Natasha swiped her key card and giggled as she entered the lobby,

"I guess! Beware, Pytor, when you're in love, I'll know!" And giving Pierre a wink she headed further inside. Pierre looked down at his feet and turned around to head home.

 _When you're in love, I'll know_. Pierre shook his head. Oh, Natasha, it seems you won't know after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding body type, I picture a 6'3 season 1 Andy Dwyer/Chris Pratt. Not Guardians Chris Pratt, but before that. Again, feel free to choose whatever you want for Pierre to look like. I'm gonna try my best not to be too detailed about that stuff and skin color cause I want whatever the image in your head is to work!


	3. Breakfast for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelby learns how to correctly spell Dmitrievna and then never uses it again.

Marya Dmitrievna's apartment was way too big for just her. She remembered the time when Natalya Rostova and her cute friend, Sonya, had stayed in her guest bedroom and smiled as she poured herself a new cup of tea. Natasha was so upset about what she did to Andrei, and Marya remembered hearing that familiar sound of Skype playing through the wall and Natalie tried to him to answer. Marya and Sonya stayed up together most nights, Sonya hadn't fully forgiven Natasha yet, and Marya couldn't deal with hearing a young girl cry herself to sleep through her wall. Sonya was lovely to talk to though. She was kind, but with this wicked sense of humor. By the fourth night, Marya realized that Sonya often spent more time in other people's lives than in her own. Only Pierre kept in touch with her over the summer, telling her all about his adventures in Austria, and the anticipation to get back to school. Marya chuckled at the thought; only Pierre Bezukhov could spend six weeks in Austria and then wish to be back at school.

She was waiting for him to show up so they could prepare their presentation for Cultural Anthropology. It was only an elective credit, but Pierre insisted on getting an A in everything he did even if it killed him. She finished her tea and put her cup in the sink to wash later before heading into her living room. She had laid out her textbook and notes across her coffee table and flipped open her laptop to start looking through Powerpoint templates. She sighed as she reached the bottom of the very basic list. It was either this or write an ethnography about a culture in the area, and while she could have done strippers and be hanging out with half-naked women right now, Marya's detest of writing research trumped all other "pros" that scenario could've given her. She heard a knock on the door and got up to answer it.

Pierre stood there with a six-pack in his hands, and his backpack slung over his shoulder,

"Brought you a present," he said with that kind smile. Pierre was- no contest- Marya's favorite person. He was sweet and kind of crazy, and he never knew when to shut up, but when he realized he was talking too much, he would turn all crimson. Marya loved just _watching_ him work. She swore that if he were only a girl, they would have been married by now.

"Thank you, baby! Come on in!"

"Where do you want it?"

"Just set it on the counter and pull us out a couple," she stopped, "Oh, shit, sorry, I forgot you don't drink anymore!" Pierre smiled,

"I'll have a beer or two with my friend, Marya; I'm just not passing out on a Tuesday night from too many rum and cokes in my office."

"Were you even an alcoholic if you weren't drowning your sorrows in straight vodka?" she joked. Pierre laughed, and he started breaking out his laptop and books,

"Oh I'm still an alcoholic, I've just been having fewer sorrows to drown." Marya smiled as she opened the bottles,

"I'm happy for you, babe, cheers to you!" They clinked their bottles together and got down to work. Outside the leaves were changing at a faster pace as October approached. Pierre was serious about cutting back his alcohol, and only drank twice while in Austria, and never to the point of complete stupidity. He had no need anymore. He needed alcohol in the past because Pierre hated the way he was treated and the people around him, namely Helene and Anatole Kuragin, told him it would be better if he just kept drinking. Now, they were gone, and Pierre hadn't the urge anymore. 

The two friends finished up their rough draft and decided after three hours of brainstorming that they would edit each other's sections and get back together on Thursday before class to put it all together. Marya started to walk down the hall to throw her books into her room and called out,

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Pierre got flustered looking up from his book,

"Um-well, I-Well, uh, what's the question?" he replied. 

"So, little Bolkonskya told me you haven't been going to parties anymore, and I get it, we're seniors, why would you-" she started, coming back out and joining him on her sofa.

"Mmhmm.."

"But I know the rest of the Scooby Gang has all gone to some, so I was wondering is it because you're afraid of the alcohol or," she paused, "if you're afraid of seeing Helene?" Pierre wiped his tired eyes from behind his glasses,

"I think," he sighed, "I think it's a combination. She was why I drank, you know? She's this living breathing anxiety of mine and the only way she didn't stress me out or cause me any pain was when I was drunk because I didn't care. The idea of being in a crowded room with her laughing and smiling and being all," Pierre made the shape of an hourglass in the air with his hands, "in front of me while I'm  _not_   trashed is scary." Marya nodded her head,

"You know if she even tried to talk to you, I'd probably just break her femur on sight, right?" Pierre laughed loudly,

"Why the femur?"

"Strongest bone, duh!" she said laughing along with him. This was why Pierre loved Marya so much, she had this mother like quality to her, but she also knew how to lighten up a situation. She would never lay a hand on Helene, and Pierre knew that, but he knew that she would do everything but that to protect her friends. 

"Why'd you ask anyway?"

"I'm throwing a party this weekend, and I want you there. Everyone else is coming, and while I will most definitely kick them out if they show up, I can't post an invitation online with the tag-line, 'Besides those fucking Kuragins,' on it, you know?" Pierre nodded. He wanted to go and have fun. If he was being honest with himself, sitting at home reading every Friday night was getting old, even for him. He enjoyed his alone time, yes, but he had to admit that the senselessness of college parties always intrigued him. However, Helene wasn't the only Kuragin that Pierre was concerned with. He hadn't seen Anatole since the night Pierre broke his nose on the steps of the Kappa house. The idea of him made Pierre's blood rush to his head and heart. Nikolay had told him all about how Anatole said he, "Never even slept with Natasha," "She came onto him," and "The only reason he got suspended was that Dean Rostov was her dad" and other total nonsense that made Pierre envision running him over with a Hummer. 

"You know what, I'll come," he said. Marya's face lit up,

"Seriously?"

"For you! And I mean, come on, what better party to my first of the school year than yours?"

"I'm liking the attitude, Bezukhov!" she exclaimed. They stood up, and Marya wrapped him a hug as she led him to the door.

* * *

 

 Pierre got home about 20 minutes later and started to tweak some minor things on Marya's half of their project. For the most part, everything was perfect, but he added in some more footnotes to be safe. He stretched back in his chair, taking his glasses off and letting out a yawn. He cleaned the lenses and put them back on before getting up to start on dinner. Pierre moseyed into his kitchen, rummaging through his cabinets and pantry, but couldn't think of anything appetizing. He opened the fridge and took out a packet of bacon and his egg carton. Breakfast for dinner was better than no dinner. 

The bacon was sizzling in the pan when his phone started to ring. He glanced at it, picking it up as soon as he saw who it was,

"Hey, Tasha, what's up?"

"I'll be up in 2 minutes, I want to show you something!" her voice sang through the phone. 

"Alright, I didn't know you were coming over, I started making dinner-" he heard the knock at the door and quickly flipped over the bacon before opening it.

"Hey!" she smiled, standing before him in paint-stained overalls, a canvas nestled underneath her arm. He welcomed her in and jogged back to check on his food.

"Do you want me to throw more pieces on, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting you, I would've ordered something or made something else or-"

"Finish making your food, Pierre, and if I get hungry, I'll make myself at home, how about that?" she asked, setting her canvas down. Pierre nodded in agreement,

"What did you want to show me?" he said, starting on the eggs. She smiled brightly, and Pierre matched her expression as he plated his food and moved over to the table. Natasha grabbed her canvas and flipped it around to show Pierre. It was a beautiful painting of a rose-gold sunset behind purple snow-capped mountains, sitting on lush dark green hills which were dotted with tiny white flowers. Pierre could see little black marks that looked like words vaguely underneath the paint. He leaned in closer, readjusting his glasses as he looked at it,

"Natalie, this is gorgeous! What did you paint it on?"

"Sheet music! Guess the song; you'll never guess!" Pierre looked up at her and smiled at her excitement before trying to decode the now blurry words of the mysterious music. He chuckled a little as he stood up,

"I'm stumped."

"Edelweiss! From the Sound of Music!"

"Fantastic," he said as she set down the painting again, "Was it for class?" Natasha blushed,

"Well, technically, I did have to paint on sheet music and base it on the song, but I had two ideas. One was Bohemian Rhapsody, which I turned in for class," she glanced back down at her painting leaning against the table, "And this one; which I wanted to give to you." Pierre's face grew red as he quickly went to grab the painting again. He held it out before him, and his jaw dropped,

"Natasha, are you serious?"

"Yeah! I've been Googling information about Austria because I was serious about wanting to go last month, and I fell in love with the landscape. Plus, the way you talk about it Petrushka, I knew you missed it." Pierre felt happy tear begin to form and blinked them away,

"I don't know what to say."  _I don't deserve this._ "This is the best gift I have ever received, and means so much more coming from my best friend."  _I wish I could kiss you._ He set it aside as she wrapped him in a tight hug. Pierre kissed the top of her head as she buried her face in his chest. He thought about doing this every day. Having her wake up next to him, having morning hugs and coffee before class. Breakfast for dinner nights, and Natasha coming home to him joyful and lively and covered in paint. He broke the hug and rested his hands on her shoulders,

"You know, I'm going to Marya's fall party this weekend," he said. Natasha let out a mini scream,

"Yes! I'm so excited! You haven't been out with us all year!"

"I know! You'll have to remind me how to have fun!" he joked. 

"You and I both know you can get yourself into fun all on your own," she teased. Pierre shook his head. He was reminded of all the nights Andrei had to come and get him from some party or strip club or wherever Dolokhov and Kuragin had taken him. He now realized that many of those nights he was most likely with Natasha beforehand. Then he remembered the one time she was there. It was the weekend before the fall art show, Andrei was helping Natasha with her portfolio or something when Pierre called him,

>  " _Pierre you told me you'd stop this, man!'"_
> 
> _"I know, but Anatole said he'd watch me this time. But Helene kept saying I was good for another-"_
> 
> _"Yeah well, she's a fucking monster-"_
> 
> _"Hey! That's my girllfrwiend, ohkay? I did this tomeself..."_ he remembered hearing Natasha's voice in the background. She might've asked if he was okay, but he wasn't sure. 
> 
> _"Where are you, I'm coming to get you?"_ was the last thing he remembered before waking up in a backseat, his head in Natasha's lap. She was blurry and frowning at him, and he could see the vague shadow of Andrei in the front seat,
> 
> " _Shhhh, just go back to sleep, Pytor_." she had said. He remembered muttering something probably idiotic. He recalled how she told Andrei she hated to see him like this, and Andrei agreeing while ranting about Dolokhov and the disgrace of a soldier he was. But then Pierre did close his eyes, and did fall asleep, and didn't wake up again until the sun came up. 

Pierre cleared his throat,

”That won’t be happening again,” he glanced at his watch, 9:15. “Nat, it’s getting late, let me walk you back.” Natasha went silent and looked down at her feet,

”Can I stay here?” she asked. Pierre looked confused,

”Is everything okay?”

”Yeah, yeah, of course! Sonya and Nik are having some kind of talk, and I don’t feel comfortable being in that space."

"Believe me, I understand! You can borrow some clothes, but I'm warning you, they'll swallow you whole," he replied. She rolled her eyes playfully as she headed down the hallway,

"Thank you," she called out. Pierre put his dishes in the dishwasher, walked over to the painting, taking its beauty in one more time, before stepping into his study and setting it beside his desk to hang later. He went over and sat in his big comfy chair. He glanced through the open door and down the hall towards his closed bedroom. He started to think that maybe she needed his help and that perhaps she couldn't find anything. Pierre's room wasn't big, per say, but it was a standard master, and he inherited his father's bedroom set, which included three dressers. The idea of Natasha Rostova going through his drawers made Pierre feel slightly nervous, but not nearly as uncomfortable as the idea of him having to control himself around her while she wore his clothes and slept in his bed.

He didn't even want to sleep with her that much; he just wanted to enjoy all of her openly. To kiss her lips and hug her, carry her off to bed and cuddle until they fell asleep. He heard the water turn on, and he blushed,

_"She's taking a shower_ _,"_ he thought _,_ _"Wonderful._ _"_ Pierre groaned as he tried to fight the tightening of his pants with images of the elderly and sick children. It worked long enough for him to stop worrying and get the color of his face to turn back to normal before starting all over again,

"Dammit!" he whispered, "Shit, okay, I'll just make up this futon, that's not sexy," he told himself as he clumsily unfolded the futon. He went to the linen closet between the two rooms and grabbed enough blankets for one night. Okay, it was working. He was a focused bed-maker, not some bumbling idiot thinking about sex-ing up his best friend. He heard the water stop, and by the time he had finished placing down his blanket, Natasha walked out. 

She had her hair flipped to one side, and was drying it with a towel. His grey 'Across The Universe' t-shirt was darker in the places she hadn't fully dried off, and it came down to the middle of her thigh. She tip-toed across the hall quickly to avoid dripping and giggled when she got in front of him. Natasha laid the towel on the back on Pierre's computer chair,

"I'll move that in a second, but," she raised up the t-shirt to reveal a pair of severely rolled up boxers, "I didn't have any pants, I hope you don't mind." Pierre tried to keep a straight face as he simultaneously looked at the woman he loved and had more thoughts of the elderly and sick children. 

"No-never-You, uh, I mean," he sighed, "Sorry. Headrush, take whatever you want, Tasha, you know this." 

"You didn't have to make this up for me, you know," she said pointing to the futon. Pierre grinned and scratched the back of his head,

"Oh no, this is for me. You can take my bed."

"What? 'Trushka no, I'm your guest-"

"You're my friend first, and friends get the best! Besides," he glanced at the painting, "someone has to guard your masterpiece." Natasha walked over to him and sat beside him; she put her head on his large shoulder,

"Are you going to bed?" she asked. Pierre shrugged,

"I should."

"Doesn't mean you will." Pierre chuckled,

"This is very true! Usually," he said as he got up and quickly jogged to his to room and back, "I read until I pass out, you wanna borrow a book?" He came back waving his in his hands. 

"What are you reading?"

"Re-reading the Iliad. Haven't picked it up since high school, thought I'd see if I still like it."

"I love the Iliad! Well, as much as you can anyways, but I loved mythology when I was younger."

"Here, take it." Natasha shook her head and pushed it back into his lap,

"No, you are too good to me! How about you read it to me? I read it like three summers ago; I can keep up." Pierre agreed and the two of the laid back together as Pierre began reading from the point he had stopped last time. He read of Hera's rage at the Trojans and Pandaros wounding Menelaus with an arrow. Natasha looked wonderstruck at the pages. She clung to Pierre's every word, and even when she closed her eyes, she was still listening. Time ticked on, and by the time Diomedes was plowing through the Trojan army, both of them were sound asleep. The Iliad laid open on Pierre's lap, and his glasses were crooked on his nose. Natasha was snuggled in the crook of Pierre's arm, her gentle breathing following the rhythm of his. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRUH LIKE 40 PEOPLE HAVE READ THIS SHIT AND LIKE 5 HAVE GIVEN MY DUMBASS KUDOS I LOVE YALL I WANNA BUY YALL A DOG, IMMA CRY!


	4. Wake Me Up When September Ends

Waking up the next morning alone, Sonya hugged her knees and sighed. She went into their bathroom and looked in the mirror. Her eyes were still puffy, and her cheeks were still red, but other than that she was fine. Sonya is fine.

Sonya is good. After all, she never really expected to be with Nikolay. Sure, she wanted him because he was safe and loved her dearly, but he wasn't realistic. He was more realistic than Natasha, but Sonya had put that out her head after Natasha kissed Boris Drubetskoy at their senior prom and swore she could never feel this way about anyone else. And then Natasha met Andrei, and then Anatole. However, Nikolay was always there. He was her first kiss, and he took her to his prom. Even Doctor and Mrs. Rostov thought they'd somehow end up together, but in the end, that wasn't meant to be.

Nikolay had come over to talk about why there was this rift between them now. They sat and spoke for a very long time until Sonya got fed up and just asked,

"Do you even love me, Nikolay?"

"Of course, Sophia, God! It's just," he stood up from Natasha's bed and sighed as he paced the room, "I don't love you the way I thought I did. I'm not in love with you. And I don't think you're in love with me."

"How can you say that?"

"C'mon, Sonya. You never thought it was weird that we never made things official? You only recently began to question me calling you my friend. I've never heard you call me your boyfriend! We fight all the time-"

"Okay, Nik, I get it," Sonya snapped. The boy went silent as she rubbed her temples, "You're right. I never really thought about it because I didn't care. I just always thought we were supposed to be together, so I never questioned anything."

"Neither did I. I can't keep pretending with you, Sophia, you deserve better than that."

"I understand," she said starting to tear up. She could see the tears forming in his eyes as well and laughed,

"Why are we crying, this is ridiculous! We're still friends." He smiled back and joined her laughter,

"The best of friends!" He sniffled, wiping his eyes, "You taught me how to love, Sonya. Letting go of the idea of you is hard."

"Ditto, sport," she added dryly. Nikolay grinned as he walked over to her bed and pulled her in for a hug, "God, I don't even know what to do now," she said. He pulled away and put his backpack back on,

"Honestly same here. But, I'm gonna start with walking to the library and I'll how it goes from there."

"If it works, maybe I'll try it tomorrow." Nikolay smiled sadly as he opened her door,

"I'll be sure to let you know, Sonya." 

Well, he hasn't let her know, and a small part of her hoped the rest of his night sucked. Okay, a large part of her wished his night sucked. She glanced at her phone and opened up her messages, but she didn't have anything new and didn't feel like texting Natasha. Nikolay probably did already, and if she hadn't texted her, that meant she was sleeping or in class. Sonya's Thursday classes didn't start until 1 pm, so she had time to ruminate on this whole situation. She broke out her phone and decided to text Marya.   

>  <Sonya: Hey, it's Sonya.
> 
> >Marya D: long time, no talk, what's up ?
> 
> <Sonya: Bored before class. Nikolay Rostov and I kinda broke up.
> 
> >Marya D: damn girl didn't even know you guys dated, i'm sorry !
> 
> <Sonya: Well we didn't...idk, it's weirdly complicated.
> 
> >Marya D: you wanna grab a smoothie and talk about it ?

Sonya smiled down at her phone, 

> <Sonya: It takes me 15 minutes to walk to the Tropical Cafe in the Bistro.
> 
> >Marya D: takes me 15 to drive, see you then .

* * *

Pierre Bezukhov never missed a class. Even if he had a fever, he would stay until the professor told him to go rest. He hated missing class; it was like losing a part of history. Now it was up to him to learn the material, and in Pierre's eyes, the beauty of teaching and of studying under someone was that he got to understand new perspectives. The Russian Revolution was not the same to a History Professor as a Psychology Professor, or at least he hoped not. 

However, when he woke up, a bit sleepy and blind, and saw Natalya Rostova wrapped around him, lightly snoozing away on his chest, Pierre just shut his eyes and went back to bed. He woke up for real about an hour later and saw that it was now 10 and that he should at least go to one of his two classes today. Pierre tried to gently remove himself from her grasp, slowly moving off of the very small futon and across the hall to his room. He very quickly threw on clothes and didn't realize how red his face was until he was done brushing his teeth. Pierre rolled his eyes at his reflection in the mirror and accepted that blushing lobster was going to have to be his new look. He looked at his watch, 10:15. He texted Natasha on his frantic way down the stairs and quickly headed to his bike behind the building. 

Natasha woke up around 11 starving and to about fifteen text messages. The first couple of messages were from her volunteer group chat asking about the new project for UNICEF, then after that was three long messages from Nikolay, as well as a missed call. She would get to those once she had coffee. The next two were from Sonya, letting her know she was getting smoothies in case she wasn't home when Natasha got back, and then to let her know what time she'd be home. The last and most recent was from Pierre, who told her he was off to class, and to make herself at home, and thanks again for the painting. Natasha smiled at that as she made her way into Pierre's living room. She didn't have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so she browsed his pantry looking for something to eat. She was still wrapped in the blanket they had shared as she broke out the cereal and headed to the fridge for the milk. It still smelled like him, and she kept it on even as she clumsily tried to pour milk over her Cherrio's. She finally took it off after almost tripping while shuffling on the way to the counter. 

Natasha looked around the space as she ate. It was strange to be here alone. She felt like she was invading a mind she didn't entirely understand. However, as someone who loved anthropology and humanitarian work, Natasha was in heaven. The traditional decor of the area mixed with the well-polished antique bookcase and side tables suggested that this was someone of an older class and style. She added in her head the apparent college textbooks and more modern technology told her that while the person who lived here was used to an older  _style,_ they were college-aged. Of course, Natasha knew Pierre lived here, and knew those things to be true, so in the simplest anthropological terms, she was cheating. Still, she started to walk around while she ate, opening the closet by the front door to find barely used cleaning supplies. She sat on his worn leather sofa for a while, sometimes running her hands along the cracks. She got up and set her now empty bowl on the drink cart, then picking up one of the gleaming crystal bottles. There was a hint of brown liquor in the bottle, and Natasha saw that it had been empty for quite a while. She put the bottle down carefully and walked over to the T.V. stand. She got on her knees as she looked in the little cubbies. There were quite a few documentary DVDs, as well as a "Friends" box-set that was still in the plastic wrap. There were more classic movies, mostly 80s and 90s cult classics, with a few older titles. There were even two dusty video games, which surprised her. She picked up her bowl from back off the cart and headed back over to the kitchen where she set it into the sink. Glancing at the clock, Natasha saw that it was 11:20. Pierre would be home by noon, and Natasha didn't feel like leaving just yet.

She didn't feel awkward in the space anymore. She liked being in his large shirt, wrapped in one of his blankets, and smelling like him in the morning. She recalled this morning when she initially woke up around 5 a.m. and found Pierre sound asleep next to her. She was only half awake and smiled as she snuggled closer into him, grabbing more of the blanket as she did so. She closed her eyes and quickly fell back asleep.

Natalya sighed as she relaxed on the sofa, running her fingers over the old lines in the leather. She hadn’t been this content with her life in months. It was like she had this film of dust and ashes in front of her eyes, and it had only recently been wiped away. Her little smile had not left her face since she woke up. She thought about Pierre. Sweet, caring, considerate, and loving Pierre. The man who could take any conversation and turn it into an adventure into his imagination. A man who made her feel whole and priceless. He was funny and wholesome and treated her as though they were equals. Andrei had treated her like she was only his; Anatole treated her like she was some goal to be met and then forgotten about; but Pierre, he treated her like she should be celebrated. A tear came to the corner of her eyes, and Natasha chuckled as she wiped it away. My God, she was in love with him. She was in love with Pierre Bezukhov, and she was smiling because she had never been happier than at this moment of realization. She heard the jangling of keys and the door unlocked, and Pierre walked in, a look of surprise on his face,

"Hey, Talya, I didn't know you'd still be here!" She stood up a little too quickly,

"Yeah! I don't have class today, so I thought I'd hang out here." Pierre looked at her puzzled,

"You don't have to get up, here, I'll come and join you-"

"No, no, seriously, I've been avoiding this whole Sonya-Nikolay situation all morning, I should go check on them." 

"Well better check on Nikolay, Sonya's at Marya's place."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they went out for smoothies, I guess, I caught them walking back on my way home."

"Oh," she replied. She could feel her face getting hot. Natasha didn't exactly know how to process being in love with Pierre. She wasn't seeing him differently, just more clearly. She wanted to tell him, but she couldn't do that to him. Natasha had lost a boyfriend with Andrei, but he had lost his best friend, it would be selfish of her to think he could but all that aside and date her when she had treated Andrei so badly. Her eyes began to tear up again, but this time Pierre was in front of her,

"Natasha? Natasha, what's wrong?" he asked as he dropped his backpack and hurried to her.

"I'm just thinking about Andrei," she said through the tears. She could see him grow flustered as he wrapped her in a warm hug,

"I think about him too," he said, "All the time." Natasha cried even harder and broke the hug,

"Yes, but Pierre, I did an awful thing to him. He was a good person, and he loved me, and I cheated on him! He cared about you so much, and yet you still care about me. I don't deserve that, Pierre. I don't deserve you." Pierre looked astounded at her,

"Natalya Rostova. You were a nineteen-year-old kid. You are," he paused, "I-" he sighed, "Natasha, you deserve much more than me, you made a mistake, I've made thousands. I care about you because if I didn't, I would be an idiot and delusional. I am lucky to get to care about you. I, Natalya, am not deserving of you." 

* * *

 

 Sonya and Marya were having a great day. There was no one who could get you out of your head quite like Marya, and Sonya appreciated that. Nikolay still hadn't talked to her all day, but Sonya wasn't caring. They were sitting on Marya's couch together while Seinfeld played on in the background. 

"I'm serious; she literally chased me around the house!"

"But why?" Sonya replied laughing. Marya rolled her eyes,

"She thought I was spending too much time with this Emily girl, which to be fair, I was because she was my Stats tutor!"

"Did Margo not know?"

"She didn't care! So yeah, after that we were pretty much over, but that's the craziest ex-thing to ever happen to me." Sonya sighed,

"Aside from Nikolay, I've only ever been dumped by Natasha." Marya's jaw dropped open,

"You did not."

"You're right; I didn't. In my head we did, I guess. Natasha didn't ever really talk about boys until Nik's friend Boris. They met at Nik's 18th birthday party and made out in a closet. They dated for the next year, and she was even gonna go to his university somewhere down South."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, but the fuel went out, I guess, and they broke up before we both left and decided to come here. Then she joined a sorority and got with Andrei and honestly, I love Natasha, but I don't like her so much anymore."

"Like in a romantic way?"

"Yeah. And sometimes in a friendly way. We've been friends since we were eight-years-old, she's more like my sister now. I can't picture my life without her, but at the same time if I spend more than a week with her nonstop we want to rip each other's hair out," Sonya added with a laugh. 

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You mean another question," Sonya joked. 

"Ha-ha, very funny."

"Go ahead!"

"Have you told Natasha any of this?" Marya asked. Sonya nodded,

"She knows I like girls; I don't think she ever thought I was into her though."

"Well, I'd say you got the Rostov family out of your system!" Sonya laughed,

"I guess so!"

"My party," Marya said smiling, "You gotta meet someone there!"

"Oh, God Marya, I don't know-"

"No, we have to!" The two girls smiled at each other. Sonya's phone buzzed, and she looked down on it. She had a look of confusion on her face, and she typed in her passcode and read her message.

>  >Nikolay: Hey! Sorry for not getting back to you today. I hope you're doing okay. When I finally got home there was a huge surprise!!!! Already texted Tasha, come over please!!!"

"Hey, I gotta go. Nikolay wants to see me."

"You sure you wanna go alone?"

"I think Nat and Pierre are going, but yeah, I'll be fine." They got up and put their glasses away before heading toward the door,

"Alright, well, let me know if you need anything." Sonya smiled and hugged the older girl,

"Of course!"

* * *

 Natasha and Pierre had broken out that box set and were about four episodes deep when Nikolay called Natasha,

"What? Nik, slow down, what happened? No, no, okay yeah we'll be there soon. Oh, will you just tell me you dumbass-fine whatever see you soon!" Natasha ended the phone call and smiled at Pierre,

"Nikolay has a surprise for us."

"Oh? Wonder what it is," he said. She got up from the couch and stretched and then walked over and hugged him. Pierre rested his chin on the head,

"What's this for?"

"Because I want to. Thank you for listening to me."

"Of course, Tasha, I'm happy we can talk about these things."

"You know you're probably one of the most important people in my life, right?" Natasha buried her head closer into his chest, unable to see Pierre's tomato red face. She could feel him take a deep breath,

"I didn't actually," he broke the hug and smiled down at her, "But I feel the same way about you, Natalya." Natasha smiled widely and looked at him with her glittering eyes,

"Let's get going!" The two walked out back to the small parking lot and got in Pierre's car. Nikolay lived about a 10-minute drive from campus in a condo complex with his friends from baseball. Natasha put on her seatbelt as Pierre started the car. It was a breezy September afternoon, and the state of weather made Natasha excited that Pierre's car was a convertible. She noticed how he never drove unless absolutely necessary, preferring to either walk or ride a bike. If Natasha had a BMW, she'd drive it around the block when she was bored. But she wasn't Pierre, and Pierre didn't like people knowing he came from money. Natasha didn't mind it as much, her father worked for their money, being the Dean of the Medical Department is not an easy task, and she knew she was privileged. Natasha also liked nice things; she couldn't help it. She loved gorgeous dresses, and huge flower arrangements and the beautiful jewelry her mother would wear to events. She didn't go around bragging, but she wasn't afraid of it or the attention it brought her. 

Pierre, on the other hand, acted like he would prefer to pretend he came from nothing. Natasha remembered the pained expression he would hide when someone brought up his father, a man Pierre had probably spent in total, 12 months of his life with over the course of his 24 years on earth. They had talked about it a little over the summer when Natasha realized she had never been to Pierre's house. He got uncomfortable and made some off-hand comment about how it was someplace she wouldn't want to go anyways, and Natasha dropped the subject. 

The two of them pulled into Nikolay's complex and headed into the building,

"If he got a dog, I'd kill him," she said.

"No you wouldn't, you'd try and take it," Pierre added.

"Yeah well Nikolay could kill a rock, he doesn't deserve an animal," Natasha joked. They got into the hall and heard music coming from inside,

"Surprise party?" Pierre suggested.

"What would we be celebrating?"

"Maybe a dog," Pierre joked. Natasha shook her head and giggled as she opened her brother's door. Sonya was already inside talking to Matt, one of Nikolay's roommates from the baseball team. Mary was also there, already on the couch talking to someone who's back was to Natasha. Sonya turned around and went to hug Natasha,

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Your brother is being over dramatic!" Sonya said playfully, "Although, you might enjoy his 'surprise' more." Pierre had gone over to the living room and struck up a conversation with Nikolay, Mary, and the boy Natasha couldn't see,

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on; I'll show you." Sonya took Natasha's hand and led her over to the couch where the boys were congregating. Nikolay got up and hugged her,

"Hey, sis! Look who showed up and surprised me last night!" Natasha looked down, and her face lit up when she saw the raven-haired boy smiling up at her,

"Boris! What are you doing here?!" Boris got up from his seat and set his cup on the coffee table before hugging Natasha,

"Hey, Natalie, long time no see. I came to say hey to Nik and hang for a couple of days." Boris Drubetskoy was a little taller than Nikolay, and the two of them were best friends. He had dark black hair and the darkest brown eyes Natasha had ever seen. When he hugged her, the first thing she noticed was how strong he'd gotten, and the second was how good he smelled. 

"Yes, oh my gosh, we're going to a friend's party tomorrow night, you have to come!"

"Anything for you, girl! How have you been?"

"Great, I had a rough start, but I'm finally figuring it out."

"Yeah Nik said something about that, I'm glad you're doing better, babe. You're just as gorgeous as ever." Natasha blushed hard and smiled at him,

"Thank you; you're not so bad yourself." The two kids started laughing and talking about old times. Boris had moved his hand to Natasha's lower back, and they walked to get more drinks. 

Pierre was sitting on the couch talking to Mary, glancing at Natasha now and then. He saw how happy she was and he got a knot in his stomach seeing her with Boris. He was so close to telling her everything today. He could've ruined everything,

"Boris seems nice," Mary said, noticing Pierre's lingering attention.

"Yeah, I don't know him that well, we never ran in the same circles."

"Natasha obviously enjoys him."

"Really, hadn't noticed." Mary gave him a look,

"Pierre," she paused and whispered to him, "C'mon, you love her."

"I-I-I am complete- I don't know-" Mary cut him off with another look, and Pierre sighed, "Okay. Fine. But can we talk about this later?"

"Of course," she said. She took his hand and gave him a warm smile, "You should tell her, you know."

"Later, Mary." the man said to his friend. They all decided to hang out for a little longer and made plans to pre-game tomorrow before heading to Marya's. As they started to head out, Boris asked to take Natasha home, and she happily agreed. Mary stayed behind for a little longer to help Nik clean up. The two started to pick up the red cups from around the room. Then Mary started to wash plates and hand them to Nikolay to dry,

"I have a question for you," she said.

"Shoot!"

"Natasha and Boris dated, right?"

"Yeah back in high school for like a year."

"And Natasha knows he's gay, right?"

"Oh yeah! Big time! It was kinda the whole underlying reason they broke up."

"Did it come up at all?"

"No- I mean I don't know. We didn't talk about anything that would compel him to bring it up, I guess. Why?" Mary thought about the look on Pierre's face when seeing Boris and Natasha together. He tried to hide his jealousy, but Mary could see right through him. She handed Nikolay the last plate and washed her hands,

"Nothing important, I just wanted to make sure Natasha was okay is all." Nikolay smiled and went into to kiss her, but Mary backed away, "Nikolay seriously?"

"I'm sorry, I can't help it!"

"Well you'll have to, we aren't hurting Sonya like this." Nikolay sighed,

"Little Bolkonskya, always making sure no one gets hurt. C'mon, let's get you home." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya girl got ten kudos, y'all must like me or something!  
> Anyways sorry this is kinda late, but like I think I said before, I'm in college.  
> Also thank you to the two people that commented, y'all are so sweet!


	5. The Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helene's monologue is brought to you by "Someone Gets Hurt" from Mean Girls. You're welcome.

9:45

The pre-game started immediately. People weren't supposed to show up to Marya's until around 10:30, and the rest of the group was going to waste no time and getting ready. Natasha was wearing a black strapless bodycon dress and ankle boots. Her hair was up and off her neck, and he face was as beautiful as ever. Sonya was wearing an off the shoulder top with some ripped up black shorts and vans. She had put her hair into a ponytail before they all started drinking. Mary was wearing a flower print tube top and some skinny jeans. Sonya helped braid it down the side, and Nikolay commented on how pretty she looked. The boys paid less attention to the way the dressed, aside from Boris who looked like he walked off a runway at all times. Natasha and Mary were two shots and two vodka-crans in; Sonya was finishing her Four Loko; Nikolay finished off his final rum and coke, and Boris and Pierre finished pouring the leftover Smirnoff into their water bottles. Pierre didn't know what to make of Boris yet. He was an all-around kind and charming kid, but Pierre wanted to hate him. After all, he dated Natasha, and by all accounts still had great chemistry with her. They had been together all night until he came over to help Pierre. Boris got her drinks, made her laugh, and danced with her. Pierre did those things or at least tried to, but he wasn't that drunk yet. Sure he was tipsy, and the liquid courage was starting to kick in, but Pierre was still a little too aware of his surroundings. Or maybe it was his jealousy towards Boris sobering him up so quickly. Yep, that was it. The idea of Natasha falling back in love with this young man was keeping Pierre from having fun, or at least that's what Pierre was going with. He drank down more of his Smirnoff, and it burned all the way down. The warmth respread throughout his body as Nikolay came forward,

"Pierre, my dog! Okay so, game plan," he stumbled over his own foot, "Shit, okay. Plan. Is. Marya's til blackout, whoever's the first loses and buys stays sober next party! Gottit?" Pierre had that unmovable drunk smile on his face as he laughed,

"You always party this hard, my man?"

"Nahhh bro! But I got my boy with me," he gestured to Boris, "We gotta go maaad hard okay! I want this motherfucker to wake up in a dumpster orsomeshit!" Boris laughed, apparently amused at his best friend wanting to leave him in a trashcan.

"Petrushka come here, I miss you!!" Natasha yelled from four feet away. Pierre's plastered smile somehow got wider as he stumbled over to Natasha,

"Tasha I'm right next to you!"

"Why are you yelling?!"

"Why are  _you_ yelling?"

"I'm drunk, bitch!" she said with laughter. Pierre and Mary joined her,

"We all are!" Mary added. Sonya yelled for Nikolay,

"Marya wants to know if we can bring booze?"

"Hell yeah!" Nikolay yelled from the kitchen, "Got a handle in the freezer!"

"Can I call the Uber?" Mary complained.

"Call that uber, baby!" Boris yelled back. Mary got out her phone and ordered the driver. Natasha gasped,

"OMG, Pierre we're doing a shot-"

"What?"

"Do a shot with me before Marya's!"

"I want a shot!" someone said. 

"Group shots!" Pierre yelled. He got a roar of support and Boris broke out more glasses. 

"What're we drinking?" asked Mary.

"Tequila!"

"Fuck Tequila!" Nikolay said. He got boo'ed and rolled his eyes, "Fine losers!" he yelled as he sloppily poured Patron into the six small shot glasses.

"What're we toasting to?" Boris asked. Everyone looked around and started giggling like the children they were until Pierre spoke up,

"Happiness, freedom, and life?" 

"Fuck it!" Sonya added raising her glasses in the air.

"Here's to happiness, freedom, and life!" They tapped their glasses on the table and threw them back all at once. They all let out a cheer, and Mary let them know that the Uber was here. The girls scrambled to check their purses, double-checking their lipgloss and wallets. Nikolay and Boris checked their hair in the mirror and Pierre took out his phone camera to make sure there wasn't any tequila in his beard. He haphazardly tried to wipe it off with his hands as he walked down the stairs. Why did they take the stairs? He was just following Mary; he didn't know. If he tripped, it was gonna be bad. Pierre was very small. No, Pierre was very big. Yeah, Pierre was big, and it would suck for Mary if he tripped and fell. 

10:20

They all made it out and into the care safely, and started to buckle their seatbelts. Natasha made small talk with the driver and leaned her head on Pierre's shoulder. She was in a state where she just talked and talked about anything, and everything and everybody else just laughed. It was a 10 to 15-minute drive to Marya's from Nikolay's, but you got to cut through the middle of the city. Sonya gasped when she saw all the pretty lights,

"I wanna go there!" she said pointing outside.

"We'll go after!" Boris assured her.

10:35

They arrived at Marya's, and Mary tipped the Uber driver an amount that was twice the ride cost. Natasha and Sonya broke out the water bottles Pierre and Boris made for them and the rest held onto the bottles Marya had asked for. Sonya and Natasha weren't twenty-one, and while Marya's parties rarely got busted, you could never be too safe. 

The party was already in motion by the time they got there. It felt like hundreds of people had gathered into her three-bedroom space, all hot and squished and reeking of various alcohols. The music was loud, and the words were drowned out by the chatters of the guests and the pulsing base-line. Luckily, Marya's apartment was on the ground floor so that people could congregate in the small shared backyard space as well. As soon as she laid eyes on them, she came over and hugged them all,

"You bitches ready to get fucked up!" They cheered in response as Marya laughed. "Nikolay go set those in the kitchen!' She said pointing to the bottles in his hands. Nikolay nodded and disappeared into the crowd with Boris on his tail. Mary, Sonya, and Natasha stuck to each other like glue as they made their way through the sea of people, stopping to say hello to everyone they knew. Marya wrapped Pierre in a hug,

"Whatcha drinking?"

"What do you have?"

"You want Jack and Coke or Absolut and a mixer?"

"I'm sticking with lights!" he said. 

"Cool, let's grab you a cup!" she pulled him through the crowd to the beer pong table which was currently being used as a drink table. She poured him his drink, and one for herself and they drank after she said cheers. They got to talking with a few of their friends from classes. Some were stressed, others were completely caught up, everyone was drunk. Pierre was having a fantastic time. He was genuinely enjoying himself and his friends. Nikolay found him again and got Pierre to start dancing rather horribly. Marya filmed the whole thing as they all sang along to the words. 

"Yo," Nikolay said pointing over the crowd, "Girls want us, let's move!" Pierre looked over to see Marya and Sonya laughing while Natasha was beet red talking to Boris. They made their way back over to them

"But was the sex good?" he heard Boris say. 

"Oh my God, why does it matter?" Natasha said with that playful smile,

"Bitch it was your first time, that's why!"

"Okay, but like Anatole is an ass, I can see why she'd want to forget," Sonya added.

"Whoa, what's going on?" Pierre said.

"B over here wants to know about Anatole-"

"No, I wanna know why I wasn't the one to devirginize you!" Natasha laughed,

"Ew, like you even would have!" Pierre had no idea what was going on but was growing more uncomfortable with the conversation. He drank more of his drink and asked Nikolay to pour him some more with the vodka before finishing that drink while the conversation continued,

"True," Boris continued, "So who's the better kisser?" Natasha got a mischievous look in her eye,

"Wouldn't know, darling, I haven't kissed you in two and a half years!"

"Well come on over here, sugar!" The two kids laughed as Natasha wrapped her arms around Boris's neck and planted a drunken kiss on his lips. All around Pierre, his friends laughed and cheered until Natasha pulled away and joked,

"Anatole." They further erupted into laughter, and Pierre even joined in. He didn't want his jealousy to get the best of me, but he could feel himself getting warmer and more annoyed at his surrounding. Pierre had a powerful, commanding side to him that he didn't like to show. Alcohol usually kept it at bay because he became more go with the flow, but it could also make him quick to anger. Natasha glanced up at Pierre and blushed. She took another sip of her drink. Pierre smiled at her and leaned down by her ear,

"I'm gonna go get another," he pointed to his empty cup, and she nodded. He walked alone toward the kitchen, occasionally stumbling and apologizing to anyone he didn't see. Before he made it into the kitchen, he felt a small hand press against his chest to stop him. He looked down and grimaced,

"What do you want, Helene?"

* * *

 Helene had a habit of going places she didn't belong. She knew she wasn't going to be well received at Marya's party, and that was half the fun of going. Helene knew how to read a room and a host, so she made sure to bring as many Kappa girls as she could. If Helene left, her sisters would follow, and a party isn't a party without girls. Especially a party with Marya as the host. She knew she was a necessary evil, and she didn't mind. Besides, Helene wasn't even there to cause trouble, at least at first, that was Anatole's job, and he was off doing god knows what in some corner of the apartment. But then Helene saw her ex-boyfriend whispering in the ear of Natalya Rostova, and she saw red. That was it. This stupid little pretty bitch had officially gotten on Helene's last nerve. If trying to turn her into a slut her freshman year didn't work, then Helene decided that she could at least seriously hurt her feelings. So when Pierre made his way toward the kitchen, Helene got into his path. She pressed her hand onto his chest and smiled up at him,

"What do you want, Helene?" she faked a hurt expression,

"I don't even get a 'hi'?" Pierre sighed and softened. Perfect.

"I'm sorry, how are you?" Helene looked down as if she was about to cry. She wasn't.

"I'd be better if I didn't have to watch you throwing yourself at another girl so soon after what you did." Pierre got confused and stumbled, but Helene caught his arm,

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh please don't act like you don't know the rumors about you and Natasha!" There were no rumors.

"Excuse me-" Helene somehow managed to get watery eyes,

"Look, I don't care. I know you have a thing for using pretty girls," she paused and moved her hand up his arm, "Just remember she's more fragile than me."

"What are you talking about, using you?"

"You saw what I could give you: popularity, access, a way to be cooler. And all I did was truly care about you." Lie.

"You cheated on me-"

"You never wanted to be with me," Big Lie, "And then Natasha came along. How could you not toss me aside."

"Helene-"

"Don't. Save your excuses," she paused getting close to him and resting her hand on the back of his neck, "Just don't act like you wouldn't kill for the chance to kiss me right now."

"I feel nothing for you,"  Pierre said. The vodka was thick in his breath and Helene could tell he wouldn't be upright for much longer. She smiled a cringing smile and said,

"Prove it." Helene pulled Pierre in and kissed him hard on the mouth, and to her surprise but also pleasure he kissed her back for a moment. He pushed her away gently and wiped his mouth,

"Nothing." Helene just laughed and glanced behind her watching as Natasha ran out of the room followed by some dark-haired boy Helene had never seen. 

"Too bad it's not your feelings I care about, Pierre, or that might've actually hurt." He looked at her with even more confusion, and she nodded behind him. Pierre turned around to see the shocked faces of his friends and Helene sauntered away towards her friends.

* * *

 11:35

Pierre's head was reeling when Helene kissed him. The room was spinning, and all he could think about was getting this over with and maybe showing her what she's been missing. He wanted her to hurt so badly. So many people talked about the dear, sweet, good Pierre, but here he was, trying to make an evil girl miserable. He had the ability to be mean, and sometimes he felt as though that's what Helene wanted all along. He pulled away. She laughed in his face and pointed to his friends behind him before walking away. When he turned around he saw the disappointed faces of his four friends, with Natasha and Boris noticeably absent. He prayed as he quickly went back to his friends that she didn't see anything, but something deep in him knew that wasn't true. He looked around for her, but Nikolay came up and stopped him,

"Dude, what the fuck?!"

"I don't know-I-"

"Hold my fucking drink, I'm gonna kill her," Marya said. Sonya grabbed her hand,

"No, you aren't, come and help me find Natasha."

"Oh god, Natasha-"

"Yeah, dickhead she ran out of here crying!" Nikolay said a little louder. Pierre's head started to throb and ran his heavy hands through his hair,

"Where is she? I-I gotta explain-"

"No, you need to explain to me! You know damn well how fucked up the Kuragins are."

"I'm drunk okay! She got in my head! I got in my head!"

"Okay, Nik, calm down," Marya said.

"Are you joking?"

"No! You are in my house; you will do what I say!" People were starting to stare at the group. Marya sighed, "Helene is an evil bitch, I have no doubt she started this. I'm taking Pierre home-"

"But Tasha-" Pierre started

"I'm taking you home. We're walking this off." Pierre complied. They got outside and past the group of people congregating on her front steps. The night air was crisp and cool, Pierre's head started to throb, and he got chills on his arms. He headed toward the sidewalk before Marya stopped him at the edge of her parking lot,

"Look, I know I'm partially to blame for this. I promised I'd kick her out-"

"No, this is my fault. She baited me, and I fell for it," Pierre rubbed his temples and looked around trying to find Natasha.

"You're not gonna find her."

"I don't think I've ever felt this bad in my life."

"You're upset and drunk, and you did a bad thing," she grabbed his face and pulled his attention back to her stare, "Call a cab, go home, and think of a stupid-big way to apologize to a woman who  _actually_ loves you." Pierre's face went hot, and his expression was sad,

"I'm in love with her, Marya. God, I messed up, she's so mad at me! What can I do-"

"Shhh," she said soothingly, "It's okay, I know. Let's get you that cab." Ten minutes later Pierre was in a cab headed home, and Marya headed back inside, her eyes red with fury. 


	6. All That I Know is I Don't Know a Thing

She didn't talk to him all weekend. She ignored his calls and his texts. She ignored him when she saw him in the hall. She just ignored him. Sonya had told him she just needed to cool her head. Pierre hadn't tried reaching out since Monday. It was Wednesday. He still had Marya's words ringing in his ears, "a woman who actually loves you." Of course, Natasha loved him; they had been friends for years, how could she not love him like a brother. Yet something about the way Marya said them gave Pierre hope. He was fidgeting and out of focus in his Political Thought class. He was usually such an engaged student, but he couldn't stop thinking about Natasha. He turned toward the back row where Sonya was sitting. She glanced at him and gave him a sympathetic smile. Sonya had been staying at Marya's almost every night since the party, and he told her how he felt about Natasha, but she had already guessed. 

Once class was finished, Pierre went up to Sonya as she was zipping up her bag,

"It has been four days, Sonya; she won't answer me." Sonya sighed,

"Pierre, you made out with the girl's mortal enemy, it's only been four days." 

"It was a mistake!" 

"Okay and? Alcohol and jealousy don't absolve you of consequences, Pierre; you know this." She nodded toward the door as the new class started piling in. They walked through the crowded hall toward the stairwell, "Look, I feel for you, I do, but Nat is my best friend-"

"Well then, what should I do?" Pierre asked. 

"Give her a week. You can last three more days without her," she said, "I'll be at Marya's if you wanna talk, but seriously, just give her time." Pierre followed her out, and they parted in the hallway. He took out his phone and glanced at the screen. Maybe just one message. It had only been two days since he'd tried, perhaps she'd answer.

 

> <Pierre: Hey, I know I haven't texted you, but it seems you don't want to talk and I get it. I would love to see you and talk, Nat. I'm so sorry about everything.

Pierre put his phone back in his pocket and started heading toward the library. September was ending in a week of gloomy rainy weather, which didn't help to uplift his spirits in any way. He entered the enormous building and took the elevator to the second floor. Pierre picked out a small study room and set up all his laptop. He didn't feel like riding his bike in the rain, and he hated being in his apartment alone now. It was bad enough he had to deal with Natasha not being there when they were still friends, but now the idea depressed him even more. He opened more tabs and pulled up his sources, making sure everything was correct in his bibliography before moving onto spellchecking. He was halfway through the third paragraph when his phone buzzed. He ignored it and continued until about twenty minutes later when it vibrated again,

 

> >Natalia: We can talk
> 
> >Natalia: I'm going to an art installation at 7, so just come over before 6, so I can finish getting ready.  

Pierre checked the time, 2:36, okay he had time. He finished the paragraph he was working on, then ran the rest through a grammar checker. He double checked his citations and bibliography before submitting it. He looked out of the window and groaned when he saw the rain starting to fall. He hated cycling in the rain, it felt like pins dropping down on him, and everyone in a car suddenly decided they no longer knew how to drive, so he had to pay extra attention which was hard to do when he glasses were getting covered in water. It was a bad situation all around, but he had to make it to Natasha's, and luckily her building was closer, if only by a block. 

 

> <Pierre: Can I come now, I'm at the library?

Pierre headed down the stairs, his heavy bag slamming against his lower back as he descended. He quickly received another text,

 

> >Natasha: Fine.

Pierre put his phone in his backpack as he stepped outside. It was only drizzling, so Pierre headed as fast as he could back to Wiley Hall where his bike was parked. He jumped on his bike and set off towards Natasha's.

* * *

 

Natasha through her phone lightly down on her bed beside her as she finished up the last of her Italian modules. Once she was done, she got up with a huff and tried not think about having to talk to Pierre. Stupid Sonya and her empathy. She had texted Natasha last night and then again about an hour ago saying that if she didn't speak to Bezukov soon, she was going to lock them both in a closet. Natasha also missed talking to Pierre. Even if she didn't see him every day, they always talked. He always told her good morning and goodnight, and they would ask about each others days. Yesterday, this boy Addison in her Political Thought class kept going on about the failure of the French Revolution and Natasha wanted to tell Pierre all about it. Then she imagined Helene's tongue down his throat and thought that Pierre could go without her stories for a while. 

She cleaned up her desk and picked up some paintbrushes from off the floor as well as her World Wildlife Fund poster, which had fallen the other afternoon. She glanced at the Peace Corps flyer she had taken from her last Better World Club group meeting and put in the drawer. She didn't want to risk Pierre seeing it. Besides, she hadn't even thought about going yet. It was just a suggestion. She had two years to decide anyway, why bring it up now? Especially to Pierre, who could have twenty different opinions about a single thing, it wasn't worth it right now. 

There was a knock at the door,

"Tasha?" she heard softly from outside. She opened the door halfway and looked at Pierre standing there. He was in an ill-fitting sweater and had his hands shoved in his front jean pockets with an awkward smile.

"Hi."

"Hi," he responded. She let him shuffle his feet and get a little uncomfortable before saying,

"C'mon in." Natasha opened the rest of the door and returned to her bed. Pierre followed and shut the door behind him. He stood awkwardly in the middle of her room. 

"Uhm, is it okay if I sit?"

"Sure," she said dryly. He took a seat at her desk and looked across at her. The air was tense, and Natasha didn't know what to say. She just looked at him. It was impossible to be mad at him. He just looked so adorable and dorky and kind. It was like he was incapable of being hurtful, but yet that was the reason he was here. 

"Nat, I'm so sorry."

"I know."

"I really am, I screwed up Saturday night and there is no excuse for it."

"I know." He sighed,

"Can you forgive me?" Natasha moved closer to the top of her bed,

"I'm so mad at you, dude."

"I know-"

"But you don't! Helene befriended me, okay, she would give me clothes and help me with homework and kept me consistently in her grasp and away from Sonya and Nick and-well- everybody. She did all of that, put in  _all_ of that work, just to manipulate me and just to convince me to break up with Andrei and get with Anatole. She lied to me about how she treated you!" she groaned, "And I still have to deal with her. I still have friends at that sorority; you don't. You got to break away from that!" She got up and paced the room while Pierre sat in silence, "AND YET," she yelled, "You  _still_ made out with her. In front of me. And for what? Just cause? Like why?"

"I just wanted to make her feel bad."

"That doesn't sound like you."

"Well, it's true. I do have an angry side you know, even if you never see it. Helene told me that I would kiss her and still be with her if I could, and I just wanted to prove her wrong."

"By doing exactly what she wanted?"

"But I felt nothing. She didn't care; she just wanted to hurt you."

"Why would she care how I feel?" Pierre dropped his head,

"I guess," he sighed, "She made it seem as though we were dating and that I left her for you." Pierre blushed and looked up at Natasha. She stared at him, her face softened, and her face grew rosy. 

"You didn't, right?"

"Of course not!" Pierre exclaimed immediately "She's vile! I mean, how she treated you was the last straw, but it wasn't the only reason."

"So vile that you had to kiss her one last time?"

"Natalya!" Pierre said exasperated, "It was a mistake, one I will never stop apologizing for, but I was hurt by you too." Pierre's whole face turned crimson, and he went to speak again, but Natasha just said,

"Explain."

"Um, well. Look it doesn't matter, I screwed-"

"Up, yes you did, but how did I upset you?" she said, now more sincere. Pierre took a breath,

"Boris. You were spending so much time with him, and then you kissed him right in front of me."

"Okay?" she said confused.

"I was jealous." Natasha went wide-eyed.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Natasha got up from her bed and moved over to Pierre. She put her hand on his shoulder,

"I'm so happy you decided to share this with me. But," she paused, "Boris has a boyfriend named Alexander back at school. Otherwise, I would totally try to set you up." Pierre stood up, now towering over the small Rostova girl.

"Excuse me?"

"You like Boris? Right?" Pierre just started to laugh. Natasha stood there confused,

"Boris is gay?"

"Yeah! What is going-" she was cut off by Pierre pulling her into a hug. Part of her wanted to push away, but he was so warm, and she was still confused,

"Natasha," he paused, pulling away to look at her. She could see he was getting nervous. The grip on her shoulders became softer, almost shakier, and his face was getting pale. She got concerned, 

"Petrushka, what's going on?"

"Natasha, I love you." 


	7. Pierre and Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes, hello, I'm not dead. I got very busy with school, but now I'm abroad for a while so I thought I would pick this back up again, so sorry again!!!

"I love you too, but what is-"

"No," Pierre said. He did not know if it was the adrenaline or just the most adorable look of confusion on his Natalya's face, but Pierre could not stop himself, "Natasha, I love you. I want to be with you and kiss you. Hold your hand down the street, and explore art galleries with you- even though I know nothing and am nothing, but that's not-"

Natasha gently pressed her small finger to his lips. Pierre looked down at her still slightly frazzled. Her face was flush with rosy cheeks and glassy eyes. She looked at him like he was important, and Pierre fell silent at her gaze.

"You are not 'nothing.' You are the man that I love," she said. As if it were not special, as if it was not the best thing Pierre had heard as if it had always been true. But, Pierre guessed, it probably always has. He was blushing like crazy, but still had that kid-like adrenaline,

"Really?" Natasha let out a laugh which broke the tender moment. She playfully slapped his chest,

"Of course, dummy. I always have." She pulled him along as she went to sit in her desk chair.

"No, Natalia, I have always loved you," he said pulling her into him before she got the chance. Natasha looked at him surprised and a little confused as she chuckled,

"Is this what Petrushka is like when he is in love?" Pierre blushed as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I don't know how long it's going to last; I'm just so happy."  It was then Pierre saw it, that mischevious look that Natasha gets. Usually reserved for Truth or Dare, or her drunken state, and often never for those not apart of her inner circle. She winded her arm up to the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Pierre could not comprehend how wonderful it was to be kissing Natasha. It was tender and loving, and he started to move without realizing. He placed his large hand on her waist and gently pressed her closer. He felt her smile and wrap her other arm around his neck in return, deepening their embrace. He felt the tip of her socks brush against his sneakers and smiled, realizing she was standing on the tip of her toes. He reluctantly pulled away from her and placed on more kiss on her forehead. 

"Uuuhhhmm," Pierre swallowed, "That-that was. I never thought-" Natasha just nodded her head gently,

"Back to normal," Natasha teased. 

"That," Pierre smiled, "That's not nice."

"You're the only one who thinks I am, Petrushka."

"Well, I lied to you." Natasha looked startled at that,

"Explain," she said in the same tone as before. Pierre just blushed as he took a seat on the end of Natasha's bed,

"I haven't always loved you-or-I haven't always known it. You were the young girl with paint in her pigtails, the pre-teen who mocked my philosophy, but the teenager that respected it and cried when I left for college. I didn't realize I liked you until I saw how much you liked Andrei. I realized I loved you when we went to the islands but even still-" Pierre trailed off. Natasha was watching him with pure intensity,

"What?"

"I knew Andrei would have wanted you back. I knew he was just being hot-headed and that when he came back-"

"We would be together again." Natasha finished. She sat beside him and put her head on his shoulder,

"Us being an us, means we will have to discuss him, Pierre." Pierre just nodded in agreement; he felt Natasha sigh, "But," she added, "There will be plenty of time for that. For today, in these next couple of hours before I have to go, let's just put a pin in it, okay?" She asked.

"I can do that."

"No," she said turning to look up at him, "You can't. I know you. Thoughts of Andrei, and 'us', and him, and what it all means are rushing through your brain at a mile a minute," she ran her hand down to his chest, "Your heart is beating so quickly, and I'm not going to flatter myself and say it's all me. I love you, your mind, and your ability to pull a camel out of the head of a needle with your thoughts, but for now, can we focus on one thing?"

"What is that, Talya?" he said gently.

"Candide." And suddenly another precious moment was ruined with laughter,

"Candide?" Pierre responded. Natasha just nodded, and she leaned back against her pillow, placing her feet on his lap.

"When I was that paint-splattered pig-tailed little girl, I was convinced I was going to marry you," she said, "Sonya would visit from the country and whenever you would visit she would tease me about 'my funny husband with the glasses', then I got older and forgot about my crush on you because you were nerdy and hated dancing, which I found atrocious," she giggled, "But then, on my 17th birthday, you gave me Candide. This beautiful copy of it, with gold lettering for the title, and on the inside, you wrote me a note, do you remember?"

Pierre smiled at the memory, "Of course."

"And it said: 'Dear Tasha, you are the antithesis of Cunegonde, for you are a bright, kind young woman who will never lose her beauty or grace. Joyeux Anniversaire!'  Of course, I had no idea what that meant, and you left a month later, but I think that was when I started loving you. When you left, that night I went back to my room and read the entire thing until 4 in the morning. Then I dated Boris, and you came back from break; you left; Boris and I broke up; Nikky left; you both came back; I showed up; you introduced me to Andrei; I guess I never had any time to accept what I felt for you entirely."

"It makes sense," Pierre stated, "You've been through so much in such a short amount of time, I was never in your life consistently during school, there's an age gap between us, I don't remember most of my 20th year, you were dating boys, I was dating Helene-" Natasha made a noise at that, "Oh, oh yeah. I-I'm sorry, Natasha, I will never not be sorry."

"Who's a better kisser?"

"Wha-Excuse me?" Natasha got up and stood in front of him,

"Who. Is. A. Better kisser?"

"You? You, obviously you!" Pierre tried to stand up but Natasha put her hand on his shoulder, and Pierre stopped. She smirked devilishly and straddled his lap. Pierre's eyes went wide, and his face turned fifty shades of crimson,

"Are you sure?" she asked, running a hand through his hair. Pierre gulped,

"Yea-Yes. Yes so- so positive." Even straddling him, Natasha was only slightly taller than Pierre. She started to kiss him again, more passionately than before. Pierre's head went fuzzy. She pushed him back until he heard his head lightly hit the wall. Pierre felt his hands instinctively move behind her, and he pushed her further into the kiss. Then, as if it had never happened, she removed herself, and got back up off the bed,

"Good. But you need to go; I have to get ready," she said in a blasé tone. Pierre got up, still a little stunned,

"Oh, yeah-yes, of course, let me just grab my stuff." He scooped up his backpack and headed toward her dorm room door. She called out to him as he opened it,

"Hey, Pierre."

"Yes?" he said before taking a moment to breathe. She smiled at his beat red face,

"I love you." And Pierre smiled this adorable smile,

"I love you too."

"I'll come over when I'm done with the exhibit, okay?"

"See you tonight," he said before leaving. 

* * *

 Natasha looked over at her clock: 4:45. She had two hours until she had to go. She pulled her makeup bag from her vanity and sat down to her makeup. She took off her shirt because she hated getting foundation on her clothes, much to Nikolay’s detest. He could never use the bathroom when he came over before they went out. She looked at herself glowing in the mirror and thought only of Pierre. The way he cared for and cherished her. The way he loves her and she loves him in return. Natasha felt as though she could never be this happy again. She thought about them in a couple weeks on Halloween. She smiled at the idea of Pierre in a couple's costume, dressed as some pirate or superhero. He would absolutely hate it, and the thought made her giggle before rezipping her makeup bag. 

Once she finished her makeup, she went over to her dresser to pick out her clothes. Her phone buzzed,

> >Sonya: you'll never guess who is Marya's new neighbor!!!
> 
> <Tasha: Who?!?!
> 
> >Sonya: fuckin dolokohv?! crazy right!
> 
> <Tasha: He's back?
> 
> >Sonya: yeah. Marya talked to him when he was walking his stuff, but I forgot what she said. Anyways, I'm headed home now, so i'll see ya when u get back.
> 
> >Sonya: oh shit!!! I wanna hear about you in Bezukohv!!

Natasha smiled at that message,

> <Tasha: Defo a 'when I get back' confo. 

Sonya responded with a few emojis that made Natasha laugh out loud before setting her phone back down and getting dressed. 

* * *

The Gallery was probably Natasha's place on campus aside from her bed. It was a smaller building, but the white walls and cool lighting made it feel enormous. The size also made it feel more packed, which Natasha enjoyed because it made her feel like more people were interested in the art department than in actuality. She accepted champagne from the waiter and walked around looking at the art of her classmates and friends. She did not have any pieces in tonight's gallery, but she always made sure to go and buy something. She knew how much it meant to her friends, and besides, she had the money. She caught the attention of one her friends, Marco, who gave her a small wave before returning to his conversation with the woman in front of him. She had bought one of Marco's landscapes last time and gave it to her father. Apparently, this came in handy, as when Marco had to visit Natasha's father to debate over his academic probation, Marco's painting was hung right behind his desk. It was the last time her father made that mistake. 

She wanted to get something for Nikolay, who is somehow the easiest and hardest to pick art for. Nikolay knows nothing about art, so he will appreciate everything, but it also has the weirdest taste in paintings. He preferred posters and framed baseball gloves, which aggravated Natasha. She walked around some more before she saw something that sparked her attention — a freshman's painting of the Arc de Triomphe at night. The navy and blues complimented the strength of the Arc, and it seemed to capture her brother's essence. It also matched his duvet cover, so Natasha felt he might actually hang it up. Plus, Nikolay and Natasha have such good memories in Paris, it was perfect. 

"That's a nice one isn't it?" said a rough voice. Natasha looked behind her into the face of Fedya Dolokohv. Natasha faked a smile,

"Indeed." she turned back around to try and find the artist, but Dolokohv's presence hung over her awkwardly, so she turned around again,

"Are you here for the art, or can I help you with something," she said with a twinge of aggravation. The taller man just sighed,

"I'm here for the art, Natasha, but I do want to apologize to you."

"And for what?"

"I'm in the army, I should know better than to associate with people like the Kuragins. I didn't know you, I barely knew Andrei," he paused, "I apologize for my part in all of that." Natasha just stood there stone-faced,

"Well," she said, "Thank you, Fedya." she walked to the corner where she spotted the artist, Emily, she thought her name was, but Dolokohv just followed her and grabbed her arm gently,

"You don't believe me, do you?" Natasha discretely pulled her arm back,

"It's not about believing you," Natasha said quietly, trying not to get angry, "I don't need your apology a quarter as badly as you need my forgiveness. And that, Dolokohv, you are not going to get tonight, or any time soon. Now," she sighed, "I'm going to go buy my brother a painting and go see my boyfriend, in case you feel like following me all night." And she turned around a final time and headed over to Emily. She flattered and complimented the young girl, and actually liked her. She was so excited to have someone want her painting, and Natasha told her that she was even more excited to be buying it. 

For the rest of the evening, Natasha talked to her friends as well as critiques and some of her father's friends. She stayed clear of Dolokohv, but she could not get the anger in her heart to rest. On the one hand, he didn't really do anything, so it was nice of him to apologize, but on the other, he was a military man. He supposed to be better, know better, be like-well, like Andrei. As if barely knowing Andrei was a valid excuse for sitting back and letting those people ruin his life. Dolokohv should apologize to Andrei, and since he can't, there was no way Natasha was going to accept it on his behalf. 

When the exhibit ended, Natasha waited for them to properly get the painting ready, and had someone carry it outside. Soon enough, Mary showed up, and Natasha climbed in with her surprised,

"I thought Nikky was coming?" Mary just laughed,

"Yeah, he sent me instead. He told me he wanted my opinion, but I think he's just lazy."

"Oh?" Natasha teased, "I didn't know you two had gotten so close..." Mary blushed,

"We haven't really-"

"Then why are you blushing-"

"Natasha-"

"Mary!" the younger girl said with a laugh. 

"I don't know how it happened, but he's different around me."

"Really?"

"Yes, I promise. He's the Nikolay you and Sonya know, not the womanizing flirt that everyone else knows. And he's accepting, do you know how hard it is to find men my age who have been sexually active who are okay with a girl waiting for marriage?" Natasha just nodded along, "He respects me. And even if it doesn't work out, at least it's been fun."

"I'm thrilled for you Mary, seriously! Do I wish it wasn't my brother, well, for you of course," Mary nudged her which made Natasha giggle, "but I'm still happy, so happy. Today has been a wonderful day- Oh, wait, turn here!" she said to the driver. Mary looked confused,

"Where are you going?" 

"Pierre's," she responded blushing. Mary just smiled softly,

"Guess you two made up then?"

"Of course, he's my best friend."

"Natasha-"

"Mary-"

"Natasha!" Mary said playfully, "I'm just happy you two are friends again." Natasha blushed harder, thinking about how she called Pierre her boyfriend earlier that evening. She wanted to tell Mary everything but concluded that was something for the pair of them to do. Pierre and Natasha, a pair. The car pulled up to his apartment building, and Natasha got out with Mary adding, "Oh don't worry, I'll take care of  _your_ present!"

Natasha just mouthed a 'Thank You' before shutting the door and heading upstairs. 

When she got into his apartment, conveniently unlocked, Pierre was sitting on his couch with only a side lamp on reading over a paper. He looked up and turned around. His glasses were at the tip of his nose, and he was wrapped in a blanket,

"How was it?" Was his first question. Natasha walked over him,

"Bought Nikky a painting, Mary took it home to him."

"Why would she do that?" Natasha just gave him a look, and Pierre nodded, "Ooooh, okay."

"Seems like everyone is getting together," she said moving closer to him. Pierre didn't get the hint,

"Who else is dating-OH! Oh yeah," Pierre paused, "Oh...wow. I mean-unless you don't want to- we can be casual- I don't-"

"Pierre, would you like to be my boyfriend?"

"More than anything." Natasha blushed,

"Well then can you put an arm around me or something, I've had a weird night." Pierre just blushed as he carefully put one of his large arms behind her,

"Tell me all about it."

"And then you'll tell me why you're reading the UN Charter at 10:10 at night?"

"Of course, Tasha," he said with one of his smiles that Natasha loved so much. 

 


	8. Summer in September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, I had two tests today, and very spotty Italian wi-fi, so I can basically only work while at school!! Happy to be back and writing though, it's a good distraction lol!

Graz is a city of gorgeous buildings with terracotta roofs. It's summer, but the air is crisp around the train station. Soon, Pierre is trying not to nap on a train, while filing papers away in his briefcase. Then, with a stretch and a yawn, Pierre arrives at Vienna Central Station. A short ride would take him to the Belvedere Palace, but he has other business in the city. He soon reaches the heart of the city. Designers shops line the street, and tiny cafes as Pierre takes in his surroundings. Thousands of people clutter the common spaces as even more walk in and out of stores, almost like their only job is to be the background noise to Pierre's thoughts. A woman with long brown hair walks towards him, with white and grey bags stacked on her rather tiny arms. Pierre doesn't know how she's smiling in that black turtleneck, as she looks like she could tip over in her heels with the tiniest breeze. She walks up to him and sets her things down at his feet,

"I was wondering when you were going to get here!"

"Sorry I'm late, darling, the train was late." She giggled,

"That car of yours is going to waste!"

"I told you I should've sold it before we moved!" She goes for her bags again, but Pierre takes them from her,

"Tasha, let me get those."

"Fine, but only because I won't be able to for much longer," she said before kissing him on the cheek. He kissed her on the forehead and gently placed his hand on her stomach. What a life they are living, the two of them. Slowly the world started spinning and they an alarm could be heard in the distance until it grew nearer and nearer...

* * *

Pierre woke up slowly, hoping to capture every last moment of his beautiful dream. He woke up in the middle of his large bed and just stared at his blank white ceiling for a while. His glasses were on his bedside table next to a small stack of books with his phone on top and a glass of water. If Natasha were here, she would tell him to get a coaster, because the ring from the cup would ruin the wood, and he should take care of his things. The thought of Natasha brought a smile to his face. She left last night around midnight, and even though Pierre insisted on walking her the block back to her dorm, Natasha just kissed his nose and said she would see him tomorrow. He got up, put on his glasses, and grabbed his phone. He read the good-morning text from Natasha and replied before finally stretching. Pierre was a slow mover in the mornings, especially when he did not have class until later. He had taken so many courses over the summers; he practically stayed at school the entire year minus winter and spring break. He racked up so many credits that by the time his senior year had finally arrived he didn't need many classes to graduate.

By the time Pierre finally got ready and made himself some cereal, the sun was already high in the sky. It was going to be a beautiful day, and tomorrow would be the weekend, and the end of September. So much had happened to Pierre's life in just a matter of days. He opened his laptop while munching down on Cheerio's and sent a message to Model UN to remember to vote for the new board by next week, and that candidates should have their speeches prepared and approved by Pierre. He checked his email and saw a message from the University of Graz.

> >Pichler: Pierre, my boy, it has been a while. I am contacting you to let you know that I have a very exciting opportunity that I believe you would be interested in.  _Bitte lesen Sie den Artikel unten und wenden Sie sich bei Fragen an mich._

Pierre clicked on this link and pulled up the PDF. Internship Opportunities was written across the top; once in German and once in English. It went on to describe a program for aspiring teachers in a variety of subjects to be TAs and even practice being an adjunct for the University of Vienna for an entire summer semester. It was a fantastic opportunity, an immediately Pierre's thoughts ran to where he would be best suited: International Relations, Political Science, Philosophy? He was engaged in all those fields through his major and minor. And he could stay through the fall, travel around Europe and stay in his family homes. It was the perfect opportunity for him and his future. Then his heart seemed to kick him in the chest as he thought about Natasha. His Natasha, who he just got to himself, he didn't want to let her go. He checked the initial application date, September 6th, one week from today. Okay, Pierre could discuss this with Natasha in a week. They could talk about it today, that way both of them had time to address it. Pierre collected his scattered thoughts once again as he shut his computer screen, and got ready to leave for class. 

* * *

"So, you didn't have sex then?"

"Why would you even want to know that, Sonya?" Natasha said with a small smile as the two friends headed down the stairs. 

"Because I'm pretty sure Pierre Bezukhov has never had sex," Sonya said with an affirming tone. They sat down at a table in the sun in the courtyard and opened up their snacks. Natasha popped a blueberry in her mouth and said,

"I can one-hundred percent guarantee you're wrong!"

"Oh really?" Natasha made a disgusted look with her face,

"Yeah, being friends with Helene spared me no details." Sonya matched Natasha's face, and she faked throwing up in her mouth, which made Natasha laugh, "But at least I know."

"Are you even going-"

"Sonya! A. He's my boyfriend now, so eventually, and B. Again, why do you care? Really? Think about it; it's  _Pierre_ , I love him and find him attractive, but do  _you_ really wanna think about him and me all naked and sweaty and-"

"Bleh, ew, God stop, stop, point taken" she paused and sipped her smoothie, "I am super happy for you two, you know that right?"

"Of course! It's weird; I feel like I've always sort of been in a relationship with him."

"Sweetie, it's been two days."

"And?" 

"Well, relationships take time. I'm sure you and Pierre are like, 'destined,' or something-Really, I feel that too-but, still, you two have arguments to have, sex to have, memories to make. You shouldn't want your relationship to feel like you two are just friends, you should want it to feel like a relationship with someone you love and trust because of a history of friendship. If you're with someone who you feel like is a just a friend you get to make-out with, that's not love, that's me and Nikolay."

"Sonya," Natasha paused, "I think there is something you should know."

"Okay...you got serious quickly."

"It's about Nikky, and honestly, I don't even know if I should tell you, or if he should-but, Nikolay and Mary are kinda a thing."

"Nikolay and Mary?"

"Yeah."

"Like, together-together?"

"Yeah...I'm sorry Sonya, Mary told me the other night, please don't be mad at her-or Nikky-but, if you're gonna be mad at someone, choose Nikky!" Sonya just smiled,

"Tasha, I'm all good. I'm happy for them. Thank you, for telling me, but I've moved on from Nikolay."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she took another long sip of smoothie, "I loved Nikolay out of convenience and because he was comfortable. We both just fell into this hype of us being together. When he went away I used to think he would cheat on me, and even sometimes wished he would, but your brother is perfect and would never hurt me, so it was useless. I'm happy he likes Mary, she'll be good for him. He's been kinda a player these last months, when we were falling apart, he needs someone to reel him back in."

"Amen," Natasha joked. "So is there anyone else on your radar?"

"Yeah, Bezukhov's been really working those hamstrings recently," she joked with a wink. Natasha laughed at her remark and drank her smoothie as she soaked in the sun,

"You have anything else to do today?"

"No, I was probably gonna start pre-gaming once I got home and got changed."

"Where even is it again?"

"Delta Zeta. What I don't get is the dress code: fucking swimsuits and shorts?"

"Yeah it's Summer in September, it's a way to say hello to fall, I gotta go to events all weekend."

"Surprised Delta was even allowed to throw the first party."

"Yeah well, technically it's a "darty," so Kap Theta let them."

"I still can't believe you go to all the events."

"I never formally left, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let Helene Vassily-fucking-evna kick me out now."

"Power moves, girl, I like it. Does Pierre know?"

"He knew before we were together, I think now he just tolerates it, I don't make him go." Sonya started laughing and made a motion like they should get up and get going,

"I'm trying to imagine Pytor Krillovitch being apart of Greek Life."

"If that ever happens, I'll give you a thousand dollars," Natasha said as they began to walk back to their dorm.

"I'll take that bet!" Natasha just laughed in response. 

When they got back to the dorm, they set their bags down and started to lounge around. They knew they had to get ready, but neither of them could get out of bed. Natasha was talking to her friends when she got a text from Pierre:

> >Pierre: Hey, I got some news today that I think we should to talk about. It's nothing to bad, but it's definatley something we should talk about.
> 
> <Tasha: Okay? You can come over, I'm leaving for Row in like an hour and a half, but I can wait and go later??
> 
> >Pierre: No, no! You're good, I'm still in class, I'll be there in around forty-five minutes!
> 
> <Tasha: Okay :) I'll see you soon!

She showed the texts to Sonya who made a weird face and said,

"I'm sure it's nothing, it's Pierre."

"Yeah, I just hope he's okay."

"It's gotta be nothing, Talya, now help me tie this stupid top!" Natasha giggled as she double-knotted the back of her friend's bikini. Natasha picked out her swimsuit and threw it on, adjusting the straps. She searched haphazardly through her dresser to find some shorts that weren't too low, or too high, or would rub against her stomach and irritate her. Sonya was doing the same thing on the other side of the room,

"That's it; I'm not going!"

"You have to go!" Natasha pleaded.

"I look ridiculous, Tasha, it's 66 outside!"

"It's sunny," Natasha tried. Sonya just sighed,

"I'm wearing a sweater until we get there." Natasha was fixing her makeup in her vanity mirror when she heard a knock on the door,

"So am I, so don't worry," she said as she went to the door. Pierre was standing there with a bag of chips in his hand, and his backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked a little caught off guard at the sight of his girlfriend in a bikini and unbuttoned shorts,

"Hey? Are you sure this is a good time?" 

"Of course, sorry, we're just finishing up!" Pierre walked into the chaos of the girls' room. Sonya waved hello from their bathroom as she finished putting on eyeliner. Natasha kicked a pair of shorts out of the way as she sat on her bed and motioned for Pierre to sit down. He took a seat at her desk with a sigh,

"How's your day been?"

"Wonderful! Just want this party to be over!"

"Oh please, you love a good party," Pierre teased.

"Yes, but look at me! I'm gonna be freezing!" Pierre just blushed,

"I can't complain, to be truthful." Natasha smiled. She got up and kissed him sweetly on the lips. She pulled him up and made him sit by her,

"Thank you," she said leaning on his shoulder, "Now, what did you want to talk about?" She heard Pierre sigh, and he turned to look at her face,

"Remember how I went to Austria for the summer?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I was going through my e-mail this morning, and the professor that I worked under sent me an e-mail," he paused.

"Yeah?"

"Basically, he sent me an application to be a TA again for the same university, except this time there is the opportunity to teach some classes as an adjunct possibly." Natasha's face lit up,

"Pierre that's amazing! When is it due?"

"In a week, and I already e-mailed him, and he said that he would be more than happy to be my recommendation, so I just need the essay, but Natasha," he paused again, "It would be the whole the summer. Since there is the added responsibility of taking on classes solo, I would have to be there early to meet the professor and plan out my own classes, and I would only have a two-week buffer between summer and the fall semester." 

"Oh," she said a little quietly.

"Look, Natasha if you don't want me to do it-"

"Pierre, are you kidding? It is going to suck to be so far away from you, but darling," she stood up, "It's not like I can't visit! I wanted to go for Spring Break anyways; we can look at where you're classes will be and where you'll be staying!" Pierre chuckled and got red again,

"I kinda already have an apartment there, so that's taken care of."

"And we have one in Vienna! Pierre," she took his hand and stared down at him with a smile, "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How many undergrads can say they already have adjunct experience? And in another country no less! You have to do it! Besides, love, you're graduating in the spring, we both knew this was coming eventually!" Pierre stood up and loomed over the small girl again with a huge smile. He picked her up in a tight up as she laughed,

"I love you so much," he said before setting her down.

"I love you too."

"And I love everything that's going on right now, but I would love to start drinking!" Sonya said as she held the bottle of SKYY vodka in her hand. Pierre laughed,

"Wow, SKYY, are you girls in a sorority or something?"

"Oh, look who's got jokes! I like wifed up Bezukohv!" Sonya joked, "And only  _your girlfriend_ is a sorority girl, to be clear!"

"Alright, well I'll leave you ladies to it." 

"I'll see you out," Natasha said blushing. 

"Please be safe," he said once they got to the door. 

"I always am," Natasha responded with a wink before giving him one long kiss good-bye. Sonya made a face,

"Suuure, Talya."  Pierre caught a glimpse of boys making eyes at Natasha as they walked to a room near the girls'. Pierre trusted Natasha completely, but he could not deny that those boys looking at his girlfriend like that almost made him want to throw his arm around her, pull her close, and go to the party acting way more confident than he was. Almost. But it was a fleeting feeling, and Pierre continued on his way back home to start his application and finish up notes for Model UN. 


	9. Hammer to Fall

You would never know it was only in the mid-60s when the two girls rolled up to one of many large houses that lined the street. Greek letters were hung high above the door, and in the evening the glowed brightly. Boys were dressed in swimsuits and sunglasses, many holding a beer in each hand as they laughed with their friends. Streamers were wrapped around the brick pillars that girls in short-shorts and bathing suit tops leaned on. Inflatable palm trees and beach balls littered the grass and front porch.  The lawn was green, but the grass and leaves still crunched under the attendants' feet. Autumn was coming, whether Greek Row wanted it or not. The party was mainly centered either out front or out back while the sun was still high in the sky. All the Delta Zeta girls were in light blue denim shorts with their letters on the back pocket in glittery silver lettering. They all looked perfect as they maintained smiles with everyone they came across. Natasha saw many of her friends, who would come and hug her. She searched for some of her sisters as she entered the large house, making her way to the backyard. Along the way, she lost Sonya, who found Marya at the top of the stairs and went to say hello. 

The inside of the house was as pretty as the outside, but Natasha knew it paled in comparison to hers. Rather her old house, as she didn't live in the Kappa house anymore. She had to admit that sometimes she missed the idea of sleeping in a queen bed with a down-feather comforter and coming downstairs in her PJs with all her best friends and seeing five shiny cappuccino machines waiting for them. Then, she would always remember that she was being watched by a she-demon who only cared about herself and made Natasha's boyfriend miserable for over a year, and she was just fine with her twin bed and the mini fridge she shared with Sonya. Besides, they still had a private bathroom, so it wasn't too different. 

Music was blasting from every wall, and all around Natasha, people were drinking from kegs or wine bags, or whatever they brought themselves. Decorations were still mainly intact, meaning the rowdier crowd hadn't arrived yet. She stepped back into the sun after saying hey to some people she assumed she knew and smiled at being back in the warmth. 

"TASHA!" Someone screamed. Natasha looked over to see her friend, Katerina, waving her down with some other Kappa girls standing behind her. 

"Hey," she replied enthusiastically. Katerina was the picture perfect sorority girl. She was tall and thin with real blonde hair and spectacular blue eyes. She was a junior, a finance major, on the executive board as vice-president, and being groomed to take Helene's place. By all accounts, she should hate Natasha, but she was the only member of the board that didn't. She was kind and supportive, and while-like everyone-she loved Helene, Natasha knew she loved the sorority and her sisters more. 

"How much have you had to drink, my love?"

"Sonya and I took like three shots, so I'm feeling good," she replied. Katerina smiled as the two girls started to groove to the music,

"Amazing! We love Sonya, she's like," she paused to sip her mixed drink, "the definition of chill, you know?" Natasha laughed,

"Yeah, that pretty much describes Sonya!"

"Here, let's get you a drink," Katerina said leading Natasha through the posse of girls behind her to the white plastic table, "Vodka-Sprite good?" she asked, already pouring it. 

"Of course!" Natasha said taking the drink and having a sip. She winced at how strong it was as the song changed. More of their sisters came up to the group, and Natasha hugged and giggled with all of them while drinking and dancing. 

"OMG," another girl, Anna, said, "Tasha, you should come get ready with us!" Natasha nodded,

"I was gonna come set up!"

"No, bitch," Katerina interrupted, "Before that! We can all fix our makeup and talk!" Natasha made a face,

"I would love to, but," she took a big sip, "I don't think I'd be given the best welcome." The other girls rolled their perfectly lined eyes,

"Oh shut up, you're perfect, and you know damn well no one is going to mess with you if you're in my room!" Katerina stated. 

"I'll think about it-"

"Natty-LiGHT!" she heard before a hand smacked her ass. She just laughed as she turned around and smacked the shoulder of her brother's roommate, "Yo, for real, don't tell Nik I did that," he continued, 

"You know just because you said something; I'm going to!"

"Damn, Tasha, that's harsh!"

"I'm tiny but mighty; what can I say?" Matt laughed before walking over to Anna who held her hand out for him and pulled him into a kiss. Matt was Natasha's favorite of Nikolay's roommates. He had a good head on his shoulders and treated Anna like a queen. He called her Natty-Light after he realized everyone called her either Tasha or Talya, and so he was going to call her Nat. However, since he is a college-boy, and Natasha is very tiny and light, he nicknamed her after a cheap beer. He thought of Natasha like his sister too. She didn't mind the whole ass thing, because to Matt, that was something he did to his buddies, not to girls he was interested in, 'That's trashy,' he would say.

"Alright, well I just came to collect this beautiful woman before you steal her for the rest of the afternoon!"

"Take her," another girl chimed in.

"Just return her in one piece, " added Natasha.

"And not too worn out," Katerina said with a wink. The couple laughed as they walked away. "Ugh, God, I want that," she added.

"Oh shut up, you're literally dating a doctor," a sister named Kayla teased.

"Adam is still in med-school and while he is totally perfect and I'm definitely going to have his children, he's in med school so far away, we barely get to do the cute couple-y stuff, ya know? Besides, he doesn't get the whole sorority-fraternity thing, and he's 25, so he prefers the bar scene to these parties. I don't know," she paused taking a sip, "I love him so much, I guess I should just be happy he's not an ocean away."

Maybe it was all the vodka, but Natasha started to get into her own head. Pierre was going overseas, Pierre was graduating and going to Oxford in the fall, and he was going to be gone for three to four more years. Pierre hated Greek Life and preferred more intimate settings. How were they going to work? Sure they had Austria worked out, but that summer, Natasha had time. She won't have time Junior or Senior year, and she couldn't always visit. Pierre didn't see what family he had left, why would he fly back to her every winter break? And what if they didn't line up? What if...

"Is that Pierre Bezukhov?" Someone asked. Natasha looked toward the voice. Sure enough, there was Pierre, in khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt Natasha was confident she had never seen. And Natasha couldn't help it, but she started tearing up, and then laughing as he walked up to her,

"What are you doing here?"

"I've never been to one of these parties, do I look that ridiculous?"

"No, no, sorry I just got in my head-I'm so happy you're here!"

"Like my shirt?"

"Where did you get it?"

"Charlie, from Model UN, he's here somewhere. I'm surprised I squeez-" Natasha cut him off with a kiss. It was sloppy, she'll admit, but she was drunk. She felt the corners of his mouth curl as he steadied her and sadly pulled away. She blushed as she took his hand. She looked around, quickly remembering that she was surrounded by his ex-girlfriend's friends. Katerina just took another sip of her drink, and when Natasha caught her eye, she put up her hands in mock defense saying,

"This isn't none of my business." Pierre nodded knowingly at the blonde girl,

"Maybe it's better if I hadn't of come, I just wanted to be a part of something you liked, try to," he paused, and as always Natasha saw his gears turning, "get out of my comfort zone, i-if I put you in an awkward position-"

"Pierre!" Katerina called, "Fuck, boy, I'm too drunk for a tangent! You're all good. Helene isn't even here. She's coming in like an hour to make an appearance and then leaving again. 

Natasha could see him start to calm down. His face wasn't as red, and he gave her hand a squeeze as he looked down at her and smiled. 

"So," Natasha said squeezing his hand back, "Let's find you a beer."

* * *

 

Pierre didn't know if he was supposed the acknowledge the tears he saw in Natasha's eyes as he walked up to her. On closer inspection, he saw that she was laughing at his outfit, which he expected. Besides, she was drunk and was only now starting to sober up. Still, she had told him she was in her head, and Pierre, always the nosy philosopher, wanted to know what was up. 

He had never been to any frat or sorority parties, they either didn't interest him, or Helene wouldn't let him. She always said they sorority parties were her space and her time to be the superstar. Pierre couldn't remember a time he had ever been a superstar, or when Helene wasn't one. He had to admit though, in moderation, he saw how these functions could be fun. For starters: Natasha was amazing and holding his hand and smiling and laughing. She had this unexplainable essence of kindness and electric attraction, and he was an equal attached to that. Secondly, many of his friends were here. He had come with Charlie, who had coaxed him into coming, but he was surprised at how many Model UN or kids from his major classes were here. They looked at equally shocked to see him as he was to see them. One girl, Elizabeth, had come up to them and said,

"Pierre? Do you always come to these things?"

"First time actually, came to see Talya."

"Hey," Natasha said, introducing herself.

"Oh hey, what's up, I'm Liz!"

"You guys have a class together?"

"Yeah, yeah, International Theory and Modern Philosophy!"

"She sits right next to me," he added.

"Guy comes in handy during mid-terms, let me tell ya! You guys have fun!" Elizabeth said before heading off again and seeing his friends put Pierre more at ease than when he first arrived. Part of him was still worried he was putting Tasha at risk for trouble, but she seemed to be having a great time. They were both sipping of beers and talking to either her sorority sisters or his friends. Sometimes it was a weird combination of both, and Pierre had to laugh because there was no way some of these women knew Pierre's posse of senior philosophy nerds. 

Nikolay, Sonya, Marya, and Mary all found them eventually. Sonya was on her way out and was noticeably messed up. Marya promised a slightly tipsy Mary and Natasha that she would get the drunk girl home safely. Pierre asked more gently if Marya was really okay and she responded,

"Yeah, I signed up to be the Drunk Police, so I stayed sober and have around four more people to throw into my car."

"Please be safe," he responded.

"Don't worry; I'll drive Mrs. Daisy home safely. I've seen how the Rostovs treat the idiots who mess with their girls," she joked. Marya waved good-bye and helped Sonya head out, visibly half-annoyed at the sloppy sophomore. Pierre laughed and returned to his friends. Nikolay was behind Mary and had his arms wrapped around her as they swayed to the beat of the music. Natasha smiled at him while she bounced up and down to the beat. Natasha loved dancing. He remembered when his father first made acquaintances with the Rostovs, Natasha was in ballet. Her father asked her to show them some things she had learned. She twirled through their large living room, and while Pierre had to admit he hated every second of meeting his father's prestigious friends, he remembered that he found the young Rostova girl amusing. Funny to think that he was in love with that girl and got the privilege to kiss her ten years later. 

Pierre, however, sucked at dancing. He had two left feet and no sense of rhythm. He took cotillion classes when he was a kid, and remembered the dread he felt and how embarrassed he was whenever they had to dance. Dancing at a frat party was a completely different endeavor, but it somehow seemed worse. In cotillion dances there were steps and rules to follow; it was a sequence. Here, people just moved; they felt the beat and did it. Also, Pierre was big enough to admit that he found all the grinding to be a little much, especially when everyone involved was hammered. His other friends, however, seemed to have grasped this concept flawlessly. He started to feel that sinking feeling in his stomach that only his life-long awkwardness could bring him. 

"Pierre," Natasha asked.

"Hm?" She giggled,

"You spaced out for a second, you good?"

"I-uh-can't dance. Er-I don't know how to dance."

"Yeah bud, we know," Nikolay chimed in.

"Be nice," Mary added with a laugh. Natasha laughed too. She turned into him and took his hands,

"Just sway and follow me okay?"

"Okay," Pierre said hesitantly. Natasha started swinging her hips back and forth and nodding her hips to the beat. She couldn't help but smile at him, and she told him to try swaying with her. God bless him he tried, but he just felt stupid,

"See, you're doing it!"

"Really? This is dancing?"

"By today's standards, baby!" She said happily. Soon she dropped her hands from his and started to move more organically, while he was too scared to be more adventurous. Nikolay and Mary joined them, and soon Pierre let himself go and was able to enjoy himself even more. His dancing would never be graceful or party-approved, but he could playfully spin Natasha under his arm without making either of them look foolish. Sometimes he would intentionally be worse just to get a laugh out of everyone, including himself. When the song ended, Natasha gave him a warm hug. She squinted up at him with the sun in her eyes,

"I love you."

"I love you too." He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. They walked towards another drink station and grabbed waters. A girl with her hair in a ponytail walked up to Natasha with a concerned look on her face,

"So, uh, just so you're aware, Helene is  _very_ aware you're here and with  _him_ ," she said guiltily, never looking at Pierre. He looked over at Natasha who rolled her eyes,

"Does she want me to leave or something?"

"Didn't say, but she wanted me to remind you that he isn't allowed at our house."

"I wasn't going to come; you can tell Helene not to worry about me. Besides, I only came to see Natasha," Pierre said, pulling Natasha into a kiss in front of the girl. Natasha looked pleasantly surprised at him, and Pierre couldn't help but blush.

"Holy shit, are you guys like a thing?"

"Yes," said the couple in unison. The young girl groaned,

"Natasha, she's gonna kill you!"

"Cause she hasn't made my life miserable already, please Courtney, I'll be fine," she said rolling her eyes. 

"Bothering Natasha didn't work so well for her brother, I'm sure Helene hasn't forgotten," Pierre added. He could feel himself getting hot; whether it was with anger or embarrassment as his false confidence, he didn't know. The idea of Helene bothering Natasha and somehow making her life harder in the sorority angered him to his core. Natasha never did anything to her. He never understood what problem she had with Natasha; it was as though she just saw her and decided on-sight she was going to hate her. 

After finishing airing out her worries to the two, Courtney made her way over to some other friends. Natasha just sighed and messed with her hair while she sipped her water,

"I'm never gonna hear the end of this," she said off-hand. Pierre made an annoyed face,

"Natasha, I can go. I told you I would."

"She should go!" Natasha said very annoyed, "There thousands of people in this school, probably a good hundred at this party, and only one has a problem with us, and that's her!"

"But that's not going to happen-"

"I don't," she collected herself and quieted down, "I don't care. I only have this school year left with you all to myself, I'm letting anyone ruin that." Pierre nodded in agreement,

"Okay, then that's the plan." There was still an air of tension and annoyance in the air. Pierre scanned the crowd around him looking at all the people enjoying themselves when he saw a taller man with his hair in a bun. He had a familiar tattoo on his shoulder and Pierre almost laughed because, of course, this party couldn't get any worse,

"Is that fucking Dolokohv," he said. Natasha gave him a weird look. Pierre rarely-if ever-cussed and certainly not in front of Natasha, but this entire scene was getting to be too much for him to handle. Natasha looked out and managed to let out a small laugh,

"Of course, and here he comes, I'm going to go find Mary," she said dropping his hand and heading back over to her brother. He made eye contact with the other man and cursed again under his breath because now he couldn't move. Fedya Dolokohv walked cautiously over to Pierre, holding a Keystone Light in his hand. Pierre nodded but refused to say anything first. 

"Bezukhov." Pierre just nodded again. Dolokohv sighed,

"Pierre, can we talk?"

"About?"

"Are we cool?"

"Why on earth would you ever think that?" Pierre said, now thoroughly angry.

"I thought Natasha would have told-"

"You  _talked_ to her?" Pierre said walking towards him. Dolokhov stood his ground,

"Yes, to  _apologize_ , and I one to you as well, for everything with Helene." Pierre was stunned but still mad,

"The only person you owe any sort of apology too is Andrei. I made my own decisions to stay with that woman, just as I decided to leave. The only person you betrayed in all of that nonsense, Fedya, is Andrei. And for that, you will never be forgiven, not by Natasha, not by Mary or Nikolay, and certainly never by me." Pierre saw Dolokhov shrink into himself. Angry Pierre was a different beast than regular bumbling Pierre. Angry Pierre did not throw softballs or give someone second chances.

"I will never not be sorry-"

"Good. And feel free to tell Helene-"

"We no longer communicate," Dolokhov said abruptly. 

"Well, at least you've made one good decision since we last talked. I'm going to tell Natasha goodbye, excuse me." He brushed past Dolokhov and through a new crowd that had gathered towards his friends. Without missing a beat Nikolay said,

"Want me to go kill that guy for you?" Pierre managed to laugh which helped with the anger,

"You're above that, Nik, but the sentiment helps," he turned to Natasha, "Hey, I'm gonna go. You have to get ready anyway, and I still have that essay to write." She looked a little sad but she nodded,

"Okay, I understand," she took his hand, "I'm sorry this was awful." He placed his other hand on her waist,

"Hey, I had a great time! Whatever happened to not letting other people spoil our fun?" He placed a small kiss on her lips and said his goodbyes. He turned and started to head out when he was faced with the horrid reality that he was going to have to walk passed Helene who had just made eye contact with him. She gazed at the doorway next to her and back at him. He rolled his eyes and soldiered on. Then suddenly, he felt a small hand grab at his. He turned around and Natasha smiled. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Pierre was stunned. It wasn't like a kiss they had shared thus far, it was hotter. Pierre didn't know what to do so he just held on to the small girl's waist and kissed her back passionatley. He pulled away, blushing from head-to-toe,

"Tasha..."

"I love you," she said. He just sighed,

"I love you too."  He turned around, very aware of Helene's dagger eyes, and walked out of the party with a spring in his step. 


End file.
